


Black Moon

by peppermintquartz



Series: Red and Black [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: All Other Ships Are Important But Secondary, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asmodeus is a tricky sonuvabitch, Asmodeus is the Worst Dad to ever Dad, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Asmodeus, BAMF Magnus Bane, Desperate Alec, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Incest, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Magnus Bane in a Collar, Magnus without magic, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mistaken Identity, Multiple Dimensions, NO rape, Parabatai Bond, Past Asmodeus/Magnus, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unrequited Love, Yes I Promise There Is A Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 60,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: Sequel to Red Mist.Daji is dead.Alec is back in New York, and no one remembers Magnus but him.Magnus is with Asmodeus, and he's desperate to forget what they used to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be updated as we go along. Keep an eye on them.

Waves washed foaming up the shore, the sound lulling Magnus into calm. Black, gritty sand clung to his palms where he'd rested his hands on the ground. Overhead, in a scorched sky, the shrill calls of lesser demons wheeling in distant circles, playing lookout for the King of Edom.

It reminded Magnus of Maui, back on Earth. Here, in Edom, this was one of the last islands in this realm. There was only one great ocean here, twice as large as the Pacific, and dreaded creatures of the deep reigned supreme.

The sun set the clouds aflame in gold and crimson before sinking below the horizon. The demons that had been flying above screeched once more and soared away, towards a different island not too far away. They knew better than to intrude.

Magnus stood up and dusted the sand off the backs of his thighs and calves, before he picked up the book he'd been reading: _Pseudomonarchia Daemonum_. On Earth, it was an appendix to _De praestigiis daemonum,_ of which Magnus had a first edition and he even had Wierus sign it. This copy of the _Pseudomonarchia Daemonum_ , however, was a lot more accurate, listing the hierarchies of demon princes and lords in excruciating detail, along with the feuds and alliances formed among them. This edition was written by Amon.

 _'Asmodeus is a Prince of Hell. He is also King of Edom, co-ruler with Lilith, though they are not allies of the other. Lilith longs to have her own children, and yet is barren; while Asmodeus has a multitude of offspring that he scorns, save for one, whom he named_ _Kekasih_ , _and has kept hidden from the eyes of Hell and Heaven. The enmity between Lilith and Asmodeus is unlikely to be resolved in the near future.'_

With the tome tucked under his arm, Magnus walked back to the cottage. Built with volcanic rock and tiled with gray slate, it might have been charming in a lusher setting, but it just looked harsh and unforgiving, sitting alone on top of the barren slope.

At least the inside was cozy. The walls were cream-colored, and the furnishings were plain. Books dominated the space. Magnus set his book down on the chair by the foyer while he brushed off sand grains still clinging stubbornly to his clothes. When he looked up, he saw Asmodeus waiting in the entryway to the kitchen.

“Father,” Magnus said quietly.

Asmodeus smiled. As it had been since Magnus came with him to Edom, the smile was full of delight and warmth. “Magnus. How was the book?”

“It was informative.” The warlock inclined his head and avoided his father's fond gaze. “I'm going to make dinner. Is there anything in particular you'd like?”

“Perhaps Thai?” Asmodeus stepped closer and pressed a light kiss to Magnus' forehead. His hand was warm where he cupped his son's cheek. “I'd love to have some tod mun pla.”

Magnus unclenched his jaw and nodded tightly. “Thai fish cakes then, and green curry with rice also.”

“Sounds wonderful. I'll conjure up some takoh for dessert.” Asmodeus brushed his knuckles over Magnus' cheek. “I'll be in my study.”

It was all very domestic.

If not for the binding collar around his neck keeping him from using magic, it would have been like back when Magnus was young and ignorant. He took a deep, shaky breath to hold back his nausea and anger, before he headed for the kitchen.

One week down. Three more to go.

He hoped Alec had recovered.

***

Alec was allowed out of bed once all the tests showed that he wasn't suffering from any internal injuries. Jace appointed himself Alec's nurse for the day, just to make sure he wasn't about to keel over from some undetected wound. Alec, however, was an unappreciative patient.

“I'm _fine,_ Jace, leave me alone,” said Alec, even as he nearly stumbled pulling on his jeans.

“You're barely able to walk under your own steam, jerk,” Jace snapped. He huffed angrily and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Look, I'm not saying you have to stay in the Institute, but for your own sake, will you at least eat something?”

“I'll grab something from Starbucks,” Alec said. He pulled on his jacket and checked that he had two steles on him. Then he rubbed the amber ring on his left hand. He was going to go to Magnus' loft, and he would find out somehow why everyone seemed to have forgotten the warlock. Magnus was centuries old; there was no way he left no trace of his existence.

Jace slapped a hand on Alec's chest when the taller shadowhunter tried to exit. “Alec. Steve's been cooking all morning. At least eat a serving of his fucking shrimp gumbo, okay? He said it was for everyone but we know it's for you.”

Alec wanted to say that he didn't care who made the food, but there was a plea in his parabatai's eyes that Alec had to give in. Following the blond to the kitchen, he saw a huge pot on the stove, and Underhill in a plain navy apron stirring it.

Underhill swiveled around when he saw Jace and Alec entering the kitchen. “Hey! Uh, hey. I've made-”

“Shrimp gumbo,” Alec supplied. The small smile on his face was forced, and from the tension around Underhill's eyes, the latter noticed. Alec made himself relax. “Thanks. It smells good.”

Jace all but shoved Alec into a chair, and then muttered something about having left his stele in Alec's room. It was obvious he wanted to leave Alec and Underhill to talk in private.

Underhill ladled gumbo over a plate of white rice, placing it with a quiet clink in front of Alec. “Here,” he said, handing over utensils.

“Thanks.” Alec looked down at his food. It looked good and his stomach, apparently having been deprived of solid food for a week, grumbled loudly.

Underhill smiled. “I held back on the spices. Didn't want to overload your digestive system your first real day out of bed.”

Not knowing how to respond, Alec dug in. It was savory and fulfilling, and within minutes he'd cleared the plate. Briefly, he debated if he should get a second serving, but Underhill was faster; he rose, filled the plate again, and set it down in front of Alec with practiced ease.

Alec stared at him, and then stared down at the food. “Th-thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The soft, almost pensive tone in Underhill's voice startled Alec into looking up and meeting the other shadowhunter's eyes. Underhill was looking at Alec like he was precious and impossible, and like he was holding at bay a storm of heartbreak.

Alec knew this look. He'd seen it on Magnus, back when the warlock chose to walk away from their relationship to align to the Seelie court. Back when Alec thought his heart would shatter into a million pieces, never to be put back together.

It was beyond jarring to see this exact look in another man's face.

Abruptly, he lost his appetite. He forced down another few mouthfuls and then set down his fork. “I... I don't think I can eat any more.”

Underhill seemed to shake himself. Nodding, he cleared away the food and went to the sink. “Yeah, best not to, um. Best not to overwhelm yourself so soon.”

His voice sounded strange, but Alec didn't want to discover why. He pushed away from the table, his chair scraping obnoxiously loudly, and fled the kitchen. He had gone barely two steps when Jace caught up to him.

“Hey. Did you two-”

“No.” Alec knew he sounded angry, but he wasn't. He was confused and bewildered, but not angry. Whatever had happened here wasn't Underhill's fault, and it wasn't Jace's fault. He stalked all the way down to the library, Jace on his heels, and went to the shelves on demons.

Jace helped him carry a stack to the nearest table. “What are you looking for?”

“I want to find a demon.” Alec opened the volume of _De praestigiis daemonum_. Johann Weyer had been a shadowhunter whose works went into the wider world. It was an accident that this volume had become popular among Mundane occultists, but only those with the Sight could read between the lines in the original volume. Alec was doing this right now, scanning the entries for princes of Hell to find Asmodeus' name.

The cover was slammed shut. Jace appeared uncharacteristically serious, his mismatched eyes glinting in the light. “Why are you looking for a demon, Alec?”

“Because Magnus is his son!” Alec hissed.

“Magnus isn't a real person, Alec!” Jace whispered harshly. “What the hell has gotten into you? Did Daji hypnotize you or something? The hell did she do to your head?”

“She didn't-” Alec bit off his retort. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “How did Daji die?”

Jace frowned. “You shot her. Your arrow, right through her heart, just as she fired that spell at you that knocked you into a coma.”

“I didn't do that.”

“Alec, I _saw_ you. We all did.”

“No, you didn't, because it didn't happen.” Alec inhaled sharply. He was not delusional. Magnus' ring was on his finger, and he remembered everything Magnus had said before he became unconscious. Magnus was real. Magnus existed. This world – this world was _wrong._ “Daji collapsed half the tower, and you and Clary, and Izzy, Simon and Maia, all of you managed to escape back here, before you were crushed. Then Daji used her magic and dangled me off the side of the tower, she was going to let me fall straight to the ground, and it was-” Alec had to clench his fists and take another deep, shuddering breath before he could go on. “It was Magnus who saved me. He grabbed me, with magic, and threw Daji against a wall. I heard her spine and other bones crack, Jace. I heard it, and it's going to haunt me for ages. I offered her – I offered her a chance. No, listen. I offered her a chance if she'd submit to the Clave's authority, and in return she stabbed me. I was there, dying, Jace, I was dying, and Magnus... Magnus, he...”

Alec wasn't even aware that he was hyperventilating or crying, until he felt Jace making him bend forward so that his head was between his knees, counting from one to five, telling Alec to breathe together with him.

“I heard-” Alec gasped, voice wrecked, “I heard Magnus beating her to death. I heard him. He kept- He kept punching her. I wanted... I tried- I tried to tell him to stop. He kept hitting, and hitting, and hitting her. He kept hitting her, Jace, and I was- I was so cold. I was... I could feel myself dying. And then... and then Magnus was there, he was holding me, he was holding me, and crying, and begging his father to save me, he was _there_ , Jace, he was, I can still hear him begging, I'm not imagining things I swear I'm not-”

Jace pulled Alec into an embrace, so firm that it was almost painful, and Alec clung to his parabatai. His fingers dug into Jace's shoulders as he tried to keep himself together.

Alec mumbled, “I don't know what happened to him. But everything is wrong, Jace. All of you are safe, and I'm glad you are all safe, and all of you are exactly who I remember you to be, but no-one remembers him. None of you remember him, and he's _real_ , he is. I love him. How can I love him if he isn't real?”

Jace patted him on the back awkwardly. It was a long while before Alec finally regained his composure and straightened. If his face was blotchy and his nose stuffed up, neither of them mentioned it.

“I think,” Jace said solemnly, “that we should visit the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Maybe then we can find out what happened.”

Alec blinked at the blond in confusion. “What do you mean, High Warlock of Brooklyn? Lorenzo Rey? He's useless.”

“What? No!” Jace rolled his eyes. “By the Angel, that coma must have done a real good number on your head. No, Alec, the High Warlock of Brooklyn is Catarina Loss. I'd take you to her right now except she's still on shift, and she's made it clear we're not to bug her at the hospital.”

***

Dinner was a stilted affair, but Magnus made it through with minimal contribution to the conversation. Asmodeus was full of praise for the meal, as always.

When Magnus rose to clear away the dishes, Asmodeus stopped him. “Allow me.” With a languid wave of his heand, the rustic farmhouse table was clean again. Even the simple centerpiece of a vase of geraniums looked fresh and vibrant.

Magnus bit back a sharp retort. He missed his magic. He could sense it, but it was separate from him, as if all his magical power was a tiger locked behind a glass enclosure. Instead, he managed a smile. “Thank you, father. Washing up is so dull.”

“I can remove the collar if you'd just say yes, my dear,” Asmodeus drawled. He limped over to a maroon wing-back chair that sat in front of a fire that, contrary to all logic, helped to keep the cottage at a tolerable temperature, rather than the scorching dry heat that tortured the air outside.

Magnus sighed and found himself taking a seat in the other chair. “ _Vexilla regis prodeunt inferni_?” Magnus quoted. Dante's _Inferno_ was one of their favorite books, from before Magnus sealed his father away in Edom, from before Asmodeus stopped seeing Magnus as his child and started thinking of Magnus as his possession. Magnus reread _Inferno_ every now and again. “No, father, I will not fight under your banner.”

Asmodeus summoned up a whiskey. Its deep golden shade glowed in the firelight. “Why not?”

Because Magnus knew what would happen if he did. The Prince of Cats, the one who never left Asmodeus – he was gone, leaving behind a welcome silence in Magnus' head. But that particular aspect of himself existed: the part of him that craved Asmodeus' affection and praise, that yearned to match his father's expectations of him, that demonic desire to subjugate and destroy.

“I will be here for only three more weeks. There is no way you and I can defeat Lilith in three weeks. Three decades, maybe.” Magnus exhaled. “But I don't want to be here for thirty years.”

Asmodeus took a sip of his drink. “I will never understand why you resist the call of your blood.”

“Because I am defined by more than my blood,” Magnus snapped. He licked his lips, suddenly wishing he could make himself a martini. “I'm tired. Goodnight, father.”

“Goodnight.” Somehow, Asmodeus could make a simple word sound ominous.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pseudomonarchia Daemonum - False Monarchy of Demons  
> De praestigiis daemonum - On the Tricks of Demons  
> Kekasih - Beloved  
> Vexilla regis prodeunt inferni - Forth go the banners of the king of hell


	2. Chapter 2

Everything was the same and everything wasn't.

In the end, they had to wait until the next morning before medical allowed Alec to leave the institute. Izzy wanted to go along, but Maryse and Robert had their claim on her first – she was the one who ran the mission to rescue Alec, so she had to report everything to the Clave, up to and including the unsanctioned (but successful) collaboration with Downworlders to repel a massive demon invasion.

Alec jogged down the sun-drenched steps – he had to borrow a pair of sunglasses from Jace, when he'd only just winced while standing at the entrance to the institute, his parabatai was fucking mother-henning him in the worst way – and around him, the world proceeded in exactly the same fashion as it had before. Nothing had changed.

Except, when Alec started in the direction towards Magnus' loft, Jace had tugged him in the opposite direction.

They did stop at Starbucks. Meliorn, of all people, had hooked Izzy onto some sugary horror masquerading as coffee, and Alec had been infected by that same craving ever since Izzy allowed her older brother to take a sip.

Jace resolutely refused to even try the beverage. “This thing is evil. Look how it ensnared you and Izzy.”

“Guys! I wasn't expecting you – wait, you're not checking up on me, are you?” Clary materialized out of nowhere, clutching her own cup. She squinted up at Alec suspiciously. “Are you even allowed out of bed? I thought you were still suffering from blood loss.”

“I'm fine,” Alec said, somewhat irritated. He sipped on his breve caramel macchiato. _By the Angel, that is a lot of sugar._ The drink was pricey, however, so Alec restricted himself to one per month. After the ordeal with Daji, he figured he earned it.

Jace planted a kiss on Clary's cheek. “Nope, not checking on you. Just making sure our fearless leader got his fix of whatever the hell that is. I think it's a drug. What are _you_ drinking?”

“Just an Earl Grey latte,” Clary said.

After trying it, Jace made a face. “I'm not gonna kiss you until that taste is gone from your mouth.”

Alec smirked into his macchiato. “I doubt that's a threat, Jace.”

“Alright, if you weren't checking on me – and you don't need to, Izzy called off training today – where are you going?”

“Catarina's,” Jace told her. He held out an elbow and Clary slipped her hand through. “Wanna come? Dot should be in.”

“So now it's a field trip?” Alec rolled his eyes, but he knew what this was about. He'd been jittery about letting Jace go places alone after the Valentine experience for almost three months. He had nightmares about talking with Jace, only to blink and have his parabatai vanish.

Jace and Clary led the way, but they never let Alec drop more than a pace behind them. Some of the passers-by gave them dirty looks for taking up most of the path, but the three shadowhunters ignored them. About twenty minutes into the walk, Alec had to take a break. He ducked into one of the alleys and leaned against the wall.

Jace lounged against the opposite wall. “You sure you wanna go?”

“Yeah,” said Alec. His vision was swimming and his shirt was drenched. How could his stamina have been wiped so fast? He rubbed the amber ring on his left hand with his right thumb. After another minute or so, he straightened. “Come on. Let's go.”

***

“I feel restless,” Asmodeus announced, apropos of nothing.

Magnus was filing his fingernails. He enjoyed a good manicure, even if he had to do everything the Mundane way. Barely glancing up, the warlock said, “So go out. It's not as if I can run anywhere. Father.”

“You're coming with me,” Asmodeus said. He limped into the room and took one of Magnus' hands, blowing a warm breath over the tips of his fingers.

Magnus tugged his left hand back. His nails were painted in a shimmery gunmetal gray. Biting the inside of his cheek, Magnus silently proferred his right hand and peered up at Asmodeus.

His demon father tilted his head, waiting.

Magnus bit his cheek before he lowered his gaze. “Please, Father.”

Asmodeus took his son's hand and painted the nails with magic. “There we go.” He narrowed his eyes at Magnus' outfit. “Hmm. I haven't been on Earth in ages except recently, but I don't think a loose sweater and jeans are appropriate for where we're headed.”

“Where are we going?” Magnus asked despite himself.

“You'll see. First, an outfit change.” Asmodeus' right hand twirled in an anticlockwise circle.

Magnus felt the rush of magic over his skin, hot and invasive, and had to force down his anger at not having access to his own magic. He studied the clothes that Asmodeus had put on him.

Skinny jeans so tight that even Magnus wondered if he could walk without chafing, a shimmery, nearly sheer shirt, lean leather jacket with steel detailing, and snakeskin boots with Cuban heels.

The magic-restraining collar was now a leather collar with a steel O-ring.

Even without a mirror, Magnus knew what he looked like. Everything about his outfit screamed 'kept boy', and the collar would only reinforce the message. He had to take a few deep breaths to temper his seething resentment and indignation. “You intend to show me off.”

“My beautiful boy,” Asmodeus agreed, the slight emphasis on the pronoun not lost on his son.

“At least tell me we're not going to Pandemonium, because if we do, I can't promise that word won't get back to Alec that I was in Brooklyn. I don't want him upset by this.”

Asmodeus chuckled. “My dear child, if you are trying to goad me into taking you back to your little fiefdom, your tactics are too obvious. No, Magnus, we are not going to Pandemonium. We are going to my own little club.”

***

_High Warlock of Brooklyn._

Alec had come to associate that term with a glamorous yet cozy space; oddly threatening smells mingling with exotic scents, with faint music playing in the background if Magnus wasn't working, and dozens and dozens of little glass jars and colored vials of strange ingredients arranged according to some arcane system only Magnus understood.

He associated the term with old-world charm layered with modern chic, with too much history crowded into too small a space. He associated it with brick and steel, with shiny silks and raw linen, with gleaming silver and glittering gemstones and artefacts of power, some of which not even the Silent Brothers or the Iron Sisters would recognize.

He associated the term with Magnus in particular. Magnus, when he was deep in thought, sometimes forgot that Alec wasn't conversant in Latin or French; he had, once, accidentally added woundwort instead of rosemary in a chicken recipe, because he had been chatting with a psychic on mental warding while making dinner with Alec. More than once, Alec had found Magnus poring over large illuminated pages, muttering under his breath, while tiny spells sparked off his fingers as the warlock tried to locate something specific in his library.

Catarina Loss was not Magnus.

They ended up in Bed-Stuy, in front of a townhouse with a brick facade and a deep blue door. The door knocker was in the shape of a Gorgon's head. Jace rapped a few times and stepped back.

Alec had met Catarina a few times, mostly when she dropped Madzie off at Magnus' for lessons while she was on duty at the hospital. She was calm and composed, always with a little almost-smile lurking in the corners of her mouth.

“You look better,” she said when she opened the door to Alec, Clary and Jace.

“Morning, Catarina,” said Clary, and Alec echoed her.

Madzie peeked out from behind the warlock. She blushed when Alec squatted down to smile at her, but she didn't hide her face. “Hi, Alec.”

“Hey sweetpea.” Alec's smile faltered just a touch. Madzie loved to be hugged by the tall shadowhunter, because he was the first person she remembered who was kind to her that wasn't her Nana or one of the brainwashed women who didn't remember her name. This Madzie was still sweet, but she didn't run up to Alec to be hugged.

Jace walked past his parabatai and shook hands with Catarina. “Thanks for making time to see us.”

“Of course,” said Catarina with a wry smile. “Can't keep Madzie from seeing her favorite non-magical people. Come on in.”

After a quick glance at Jace, Clary took Madzie's hand and squeezed it. “Is Auntie Dottie around? Can you take me to her?”

The little warlock child led Clary up the stairs. Alec trailed behind Jace and Catarina to head to the back of the townhouse. The inside was very bright. The floors were a pale, blond wood, and the walls plain white with open wooden shelves, each laden with identical glass jars that were neatly labelled. Common herbs like rosemary, sage, and lavender were on lower shelves, while those on top seemed to be packed with odd shapes or translucent liquids. The air was fresh – the french doors in the back of the house were open, and there was a faint shimmer that told Alec that some passive magic was keeping the less wholesome smells of Brooklyn out of the house.

It was very impressive, really. It was all wrong.

“So, what's wrong?” Catarina asked, taking a seat in a plain gray armchair.

Jace glanced at Alec. “I think Daji hit him with a powerful hallucination.”

“And I think you haven't been listening to me,” Alec snapped. He took a deep breath. “Catarina, I promise you, I am not imagining things.”

Catarina looked amused. “I still don't know what the problem really is.”

“Alec-”

“Jace, shut up.” Alec licked his lips and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don't think this is my world,” he said slowly and quietly. “Everything I remember is the same as before I was... abducted. But this isn't what I was supposed to wake up to.”

Catarina was still smiling, but there was no amusement in her dark eyes. “What were you supposed to wake up to, Alec?”

“Magnus. My boyfriend, Magnus Bane. He is – was – the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Lorenzo Rey ousted him, that pompous nitwit.”

The warlock wasn't smiling any more. She studied him closely. Alec felt as if he was pinned under a microscope. She asked, “What was the last thing you remember?”

“The last thing I remember was him killing Daji with his... with his bare hands.” The shadowhunter's voice shook as he said this, and he felt Jace's warm hand on his shoulder in support. “I remember it. And then – and then he was holding me in his arms, and begging... begging Asmodeus to save me, and then I was back in New York waking up in my own bed, and these people tell me there is no such person as Magnus Bane!”

Alec hadn't meant to raise his voice, but panic was seeping in. He gulped in air and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he held out his left fist.

“This ring,” he said, in a fervent whisper, “was from Magnus. He put... he put in a precious memory. I don't know what he put inside. He said – he said I was to look for him if he didn't come back, but how am I supposed to look for him if no one seems to know who he is?”

Jace was hugging Alec around the shoulders. Alec didn't shake him off. He felt raw and now fear was filling him up, like water poured into a jug.

Catarina took Alec's hand and scrutinized the ring. She stared at it for almost ten minutes before she set Alec's hand down. “I have never heard of Magnus Bane.”

Ice filled all of Alec's veins.

“However, I have heard of Asmodeus,” she added. She tilted her head and her eyes slid over to Jace. “Have you heard of him?”

“No,” said Jace. He sounded dubious. “He exists?”

“He's the only missing Prince of Hell,” said Catarina evenly. She then waved a hand over the space in front of her. A low table laden with a teapot and three cups appeared. “Want to listen to a story?”

***

“Once upon a time,” Catarina began, “there were four Princes of Hell, and eight lesser princes. Satan, Leviathan, Lucifer, and Belial, the four greater Princes, and each rule their own hellish dimension alone. The eight lesser princes were Astaroth, Maggot, Beelzebub, Oriens, Paimon, Ariton, Amaymon, and Asmodeus. Now there are only seven lesser princes, for Asmodeus is gone.”

“Was he killed?” Jace asked.

“If he had been killed by another Prince of Hell, then the demons would have talked about it. If he had been killed by the forces of Heaven, then the angels would have broadcasted it.” Catarina sipped her tea. “No, he just disappeared. Rumor was that he was searching for someone. He had left a single letter behind him: _enim ego contristo mea._ ”

“What does that mean?” Jace asked.

“I grieve for my beloved.” Catarina's gaze returned to Alec, but it was Jace who spoke.

“A demon can't love.”

“Asmodeus was – is a fallen angel,” Catarina corrected. “There is angel blood in him, corrupted though it might be. And therefore he can love, tainted though it will be.”

Gripping his left hand tightly, Alec could taste the fear in the back of his throat. He _knew._

“This was well over eight hundred years ago. After Asmodeus left, Lilith, Mother of Demons, took over Edom, and it took the combined efforts of all the other lesser princes of hell to seal Edom off from other dimensions. Even so, Asmodeus never showed up. It was as though he chose to vanish.”

Alec suddenly thrust his left hand forward, the amber facing up. “Read that memory. Tell me what it is.”

“I can do better than that,” said Catarina. “I'll show you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: see end notes

Magnus wasn't unused to being the center of attention. He was Magnus Bane, previously the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and he was beautiful; no need for false modesty.

But to be seen as someone else's property... This was a first.

Asmodeus portalled them into a narrow alley, which looked and smelled like every other alley in the world. There was movement in the corners – rats, probably, since lesser demons would definitely run from Asmodeus than approach him. The stench of urine coupled with the stink of discarded food brought Magnus a strong wave of nostalgia. He suddenly missed Brooklyn with a visceral ache in his guts.

The King of Edom magicked up a leash that clipped onto the O-ring on Magnus' collar. The warlock blanched but didn't react. He merely clenched his jaw and raised his chin slightly, as if to show off the collar boldly.

As they left the alley, Magnus took a few quick peeks around. The signs were in English, but that meant little these days. There was no scent of brine on the air, so that ruled out port cities. Asmodeus walked in front of his son, the other end of the leash loosely wrapped about his left hand, and they came to a place called _La Flamme._ Music floated out. Asmodeus headed in, Magnus trailing behind him. He didn't have to wait or even talk to the bouncer at the door. Whether they knew he owned the place or not didn't matter. Asmodeus had the aura of a conquering emperor.

The inside of the club reminded Magnus of that ruined castle in Edom. Red, dusty red everywhere, with muted golden lights reminiscent of candles. The music was sensuous and dreamlike, and there was a lot of skin on display.

Asmodeus strode through the dance floor. Although it was crowded, the patrons parted before him like he was Moses at the Red Sea. More than half of them stared openly at Magnus with desire, but none even tried to cop a feel. Everyone looked at the warlock and then their gaze would follow the leash to Asmodeus.

One of them – a woman trying too hard to look young, and very likely one of Asmodeus' acquaintances – said to Asmodeus, “แฟนเธอหล่อมาก.” _Your boyfriend is very handsome._

“ขอขอบคุณ,” Asmodeus replied in accented Thai. _Thank you._

They were most likely in Thailand, although it was also likely that Asmodeus had taken Magnus to someplace with lots of Thai immigrants.

Finally the Prince of Hell found his throne. The couch was much like the one Magnus had in Pandemonium, except this was much more ornate with red and black brocade. Asmodeus took his place in the center and patted the seat on his right with a smug little smile. No other patron of the club approached them.

Magnus stared down at his father. He had a dozen cutting remarks to make, starting with “I'm not your rent boy” and “Don't treat me like a dog”, but Asmodeus only smirked and channeled a shot of magic to Magnus' collar that shot trails of lightning over his skin.

“Sit with me, Magnus,” Asmodeus cajoled. “For a while.”

The warlock swallowed his pride and sat. He was not High Warlock of Brooklyn now. He didn't even have access to his own magic. Making a scene here would be foolhardy, because Asmodeus could easily slaughter all of these people.

“How did you get yourself a club when you were trapped in Edom?” Magnus had to speak right into his father's ear to be heard. The music had switched to something fast and heavy, something Magnus thought would be perfect for Pandemonium.

“Proxies, my darling boy,” said Asmodeus, his breath hot on Magnus' ears. “I have agents in the world.”

Their physical proximity made Magnus feel ill. He dug his fingers into his thigh and exhaled, biting the inside of his cheek when someone delivered a tumbler of scotch and a martini.

“Do you want to dance?” Asmodeus asked. He trailed his fingertips from the base of Magnus' skull down the line of his spine.

The air around them was too thick. Magnus drank his martini too quickly. He needed distance, he needed to _not be here._ Smiling as calmly as he could, he said, “I do miss dancing. I've not had much occasion since I started dating a Shadowhunter.”

“Then go ahead,” said Asmodeus, making a show of unclipping the leash. He traced the edge of the collar, where leather met skin, and goosebumps erupted all over the warlock's arms; he shivered when Asmodeus brushed his knuckles over Magnus' cheek. “You'll know when I want you back here.”

The key to not feel ashamed was to act entirely, blatantly unashamed. Shucking off his jacket, Magnus kept his chin up as he melted into the crowd. Dancing was reassuring and familiar; he let the music seep under his skin and into his veins, moving his shoulders and hips and waist. Music blanked out the low-grade fear in his head, and muted the resentment and frustration that he had kept on a tight rein since Asmodeus ripped him from Alec's side. He closed his eyes, the better to feel the pulsing beat.

At first, the other patrons left him alone, but the circle around him grew smaller and smaller and soon Magnus could feel the press of other bodies around him. He gazed about him, his eyes half-lidded, and for a second he could pretend that he was back in Pandemonium with his adoring court. A young man was more daring than the rest and began dancing with Magnus, his hands sliding from his shoulders down his chest to his waist. He was tall, nearly as tall as Alec, and his shoulders were broad and muscular. His thin white T-shirt left little to the imagination, and his dark jeans were _tight_.

“Hey,” the young man leaned in to whisper in Magnus' ear. He had long dark hair, tipped with red, soulful dark eyes, and his lower lip was pierced. A diamond stud glittered in his right earlobe. “You are new here.”

“To this place, yes,” Magnus replied in English. He could speak Thai, but mostly to order takeout.

“Have you saw Bangkok? I show you around,” the young man murmured. “I know best places.”

Suddenly sickened with the thought of what Asmodeus might do to this innocent young man, Magnus' smile broadened and he twisted out of the young man's hold. The young man pouted.

“Sorry darling, I'm taken,” Magnus said, tapping the O-ring on his collar. He couldn't see Asmodeus, but he had no doubt that his father was keeping tabs on him regardless. With a faltering smile, Magnus wound his way through the crowd until he found the restrooms and entered it. It was blessedly empty, even if it was filthy in the way of most public restrooms. He went to the sink and took a few deep breaths, despite the smell of urinal cake.

The door swung open and it was that same young man who had danced with Magnus. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes I am,” said Magnus, plastering a fake smile.

The young man sidled closer. “My name Prasong. It mean-”

“Desire, I know,” the warlock said, holding a hand up in front of him. “Please. I'm really not available for anything you want.”

Prasong ignored Magnus' hand and came right up to the warlock, placing his hand over Magnus' heart. “I saw him. Your man. But he outside there, we inside here. We can play a bit.”

Heart hammering, Magnus pushed away from Prasong to leave, but Prasong caught him around the wrist and spun him right back into his muscular arms.

Shocked, Magnus instinctively tried to call up a burst of magic to repel the other man, but nothing happened. Prasong was smiling down at him struggling, and then swooped down to kiss Magnus.

The warlock turned his head aside forcefully and tried to pull away. “Let me go!”

“Just ten minute,” said Prasong. He grabbed the O-ring and tugged Magnus close. “I make you feel good. He old man, bad leg. I am young. Strong.”

Magnus shoved against Prasong with both arms. “No! Get off me.”

Prasong suddenly released him. Magnus gasped and then realized that they were not alone in the restroom.

Asmodeus was there, a faint smile on his lips, but his gaze was nothing but fury.

***

Once Catarina lit the largest of the five candles, she sat down in front of Alec and Jace and offered her hands. They were now in the backyard, on a bamboo mat. Clary stayed outside the sacred circle, cradling Madzie, and Dot was there to act as the “emergency brake”, as she called it. It wasn't a dangerous ritual, but there was always risk involved when it came to magic.

“Are you sure you want Jace to go with you into the memory?” she asked with a quick flick of her eyes at the blond.

Alec nodded. “He's my parabatai. If he sees, he'll know I'm not crazy or under a spell.”

Catarina shrugged. “Here we go.”

She whispered a few words under her breath, and then a light green smoke emerged from the candles. It spiralled around them in a clockwise direction, and then something slammed into Alec's forehead and knocked him out.

When he came to, he was in a very familiar place. Next to him, Jace was sitting up, and Catarina was already on her feet. The colors around them were a muted purple-gray, other than the golden and cobalt accents that glowed.

“Why are we in the Institute?” Jace asked. He looked about him. “A wedding?”

“We have to get to the wedding,” Alec said, when a portal opened and Magnus stumbled through. Memory-Magnus. He was clearly in a rush, now that Alec would read the tells: his hair was not perfectly coiffed even if the wine-colored highlights suggested he had tended to it; his gaze was panicked and his breathing was not steady at all. However, with barely a pause, Memory-Magnus took off down the corridors at a pace that was close to a jog.

Alec beamed fondly. “That's Magnus.”

“ _That's_ Magnus?” Jace sputtered.

“Come on,” said Alec, running after his boyfriend. His longer stride took him past the warlock until they got to the wedding venue itself, where Alec was about to make the worst decision of his life.

Catarina and Jace entered before Magnus. Jace was outraged again at the sight of Lydia in a wedding gown and Alec in a suit, and the both of them ready to scribe the marriage rune on each other. “Dude! You _married_ Lydia?”

“No, shut up, just watch,” Alec hissed. He saw the second Magnus strode into the room and that slight moment of hesitation. How had he not seen the despair waiting in Magnus' face?

His mother being shut up by Magnus with a single gesture – that had seemed like a dream. The panic in his _own_ face, on the other hand, was far too real. Alec remembered that sense of overwhelming confusion and panic too well, the sensation of there being insufficient air, that he was about to screw up and this was it, this was the moment he had to decide if he was a coward or not. Memory-Jace muttered something to Memory-Alec and then Memory-Lydia said something else, cupping the side of his neck, but all Alec could focus on was the taut line of Magnus' shoulders.

He had come so close to hurting this wonderful, loving man. So close.

Memory-Alec met Memory-Magnus' eyes. Alec remembered how that had felt.

Like he had been drowning his whole life and now he knew how to _breathe_.

Jace squeezed his elbow. “Alec, you okay?”

“I-” Alec tried to keep his voice steady. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“What's happening?” Jace asked.

“The best choice I ever made,” Alec whispered.

Memory-Alec was coming back up the aisle, and the way he ignored Memory-Maryse still made Alec feel a swoop of joy. His mom at that time had been intolerant and intolerable. The look on her face when Memory-Magnus and Memory-Alec kissed could have curdled all the milk in the world.

Jace gasped. “What the-”

Alec's smile was so broad, his cheeks ached. He saw now the way Magnus chased after the kiss, the way his own hands had clutched that wine-red jacket like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

Catarina was watching the entire scene silently up to that point. She shook her head and smiled. “Dramatic entrances.”

“That's Magnus,” Alec said, a helplessly besotted smile on his face. He felt as if he was about to cry. “That's... that's my Magnus.”

The memory fogged over.

Alec blinked and he was back at Catarina's, slumped over with his head resting on Jace's shoulder. There was an odd taste of parsley in the back of his throat. His parabatai shook his head and swore under his breath. “Goddamn _parsley_ -”

“That is a real memory,” Catarina said. She rose to her feet with the grace of a dancer. “And that man – Magnus – I feel like he and I would have been good friends.”

“You are,” said Alec. “You visit us with Madzie often.”

“I don't like the Institute,” Madzie piped up. “They all stare at me.”

Clary hugged her. “That's because you're the sweetest little sorceress we've ever seen.”

The little warlock girl didn't seem convinced. She reached out for Alec. “I wanna pony ride, Alec, please.”

Alec grinned. “Of course.”

He took her hand, but before he could swing her up onto his shoulders, she gasped and pulled away.

“You're not Alec!” she said, eyes wide.

Dot and Catarina exchanged a glance before orbs of glowing magic swirled around their hands. Dot narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

Alec didn't move, his palms up in the universal signal for surrender. “I am Alec Lightwood, head of the New York Shadowhunter Institute.”

“He's Alec,” Jace affirmed. “I can confirm it. This is my parabatai.”

Dot didn't lower her guard, though Catarina released the protective spell. She drew a sigil in the air and carefully floated it at Alec.

“This won't hurt,” said the High Warlock.

The sigil pushed its way into Alec's chest and then popped back out again, falling apart into glittering dust.

Catarina nodded at Dorothea. “He is Alec.”

“But I felt-” Madzie insisted. “He's _not_.”

“He is,” Catarina said with a small smile. “He's just not the Alec that belongs here.”

***

“Father, there's no need to be angry,” Magnus said. He kept darting glances at Prasong.

The door was locked; Prasong had tried to run out but when his hand grasped the handle, it had burned. The smell of seared skin and burnt flesh did not enhance the already ripe smells of the restroom. Then Asmodeus cast a spell to suspend him mid-air, turning him over and over slowly.

Asmodeus stroked his fingers over Magnus' cheek. “He scared you.”

“N-no, I was just... I was startled.”

“He would have forced himself on you,” Asmodeus continued, in that same deceptively mild tone. “He tried to take what is mine.”

“Father... Father, please,” Magnus murmured. He had to dissuade Asmodeus from his murderous rage. “Let's just go home. We could have a quiet night.”

Asmodeus slipped his left arm around Magnus' waist. “You wish for me to spare his life?”

Magnus swallowed. Being touched this way by Asmodeus was worse than Prasong's unwelcome advances, but if this meant saving the young man's life... “Yes, Father.”

“Well then, as you wish,” said Asmodeus. He let Prasong fall, right in front of them.

Prasong scrambled to his knees. “Sorry, sorry, I am sorry, I am wrong-”

“You talk too much.” Asmodeus' eyes flashed golden. His fingers waved in an arc and red light danced from it. Prasong stopped talking, although he was still gaping at them both. “Bite your tongue.”

Before Magnus could intercede, the red light darted into Prasong's mouth and pulled his tongue out. Asmodeus then slammed the young man down, chin-first, into the disgustingly wet floor. There was a crunch of bone and then a spurt of blood.

Prasong bit his tongue clean off.

The muscle lay on the filthy floor like a dead, blood-covered slug. Magnus thought he was going to be sick.

“Well, he should survive that,” Asmodeus said. He pressed a kiss to Magnus' temple. “Come, you've had quite a scare.” Utterly unconcerned, his father called up a portal and pulled Magnus through it with him.

***

“What do you mean, this isn't the Alec that belongs here?” Jace demanded loudly. “I pulled him out of that wreck in the tower myself! He's not been left alone since he got back to the Institute.”

Catarina ignored Jace's ranting. Instead, she was baking cookies, with Madzie and Clary helping.

Meanwhile Alec just sat on one of the armchairs.

 _I don't belong here. This world isn't wrong, I'm just the wrong Alec._ It should depress him, but he was filled with a fierce, bright sense of conviction.

“Jace, calm down!” Clary ordered from the kitchen. She dragged her boyfriend all the way to the sofa and made him sit. She perched on the arm of the sofa and looked at both Jace and Alec. Then she turned to face the blond. “I know it's a lot to take in, but remember the time you and I went to that world without demons?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that was a parallel dimension,” said Clary. “Everyone was different, somehow, but there were some key traits that still stuck with us. And it was more like I was in another person's body, piloting her. Alec, are you having trouble remembering who you really are?”

“No.”

Clary nodded. “So I'm guessing it's not the same case where your consciousness is put inside another, uh, vehicle.”

Alec frowned. “I highly doubt that.”

The redhead nodded again. “So, my guess – and this is a wild guess, just saying – my guess is that _our_ Alec is being held someplace and this replacement Alec-”

“Hey!”

“-has to find a way back to where he belongs,” Clary finished, ignoring Alec's protest.

Jace looked at them both. “How do you know if the correct Alec isn't dead?”

“Your parabatai rune is still active, isn't it?” said Dot, coming down the stairs with a long, wrapped bundle. She set it down on the rug in front of the fireplace. “And Clary's probably right. It's not easy to transfer a person across dimensions, and to transfer two is extremely taxing, especially if you want to keep the dimensions separate.”

“What's that?” Jace asked.

“That,” said Dot, “is the first of four pieces of a magical artifact that will allow you to seek a specific person even across dimensions. Cat and I invented this about five, six hundred years ago, when we thought...” She cut herself off. “It was a difficult time.”

Clary glanced at Alec. “No offense, but... I think we should look for our original Alec first.”

Recalling the quietly devastated expression on Underhill's face, Alec smiled tightly. He liked the older man as a friend, and if he and the other Alec had found their happiness... “No argument there.”

Catarina returned to the group with Madzie, armed with a platter of warm cookies. “Before that, you have to find the rest of the Seeking Gate. After the troubles with Eirik and Eivind, we had scattered the parts of the Seeking Gate. This is the piece held by warlocks. Ragnor used to have guardianship of it but it's now in my possession.”

“And the others?” Alec asked.

“Werewolf, vampire, and seelie. The Seelie Queen definitely holds one of the pieces, but getting it...” Catarina made a face. “I'd rather take care of another third-degree burn patient.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: someone tries to force himself on Magnus
> 
> i love comments and kudos. I don't even care if it's just a keyboard smash.
> 
> however, please refrain from asking me to update faster. I don't like being rushed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is gonna be CONFUSING so here's what has happened so far...  
> 1\. Magnus is with Asmodeus in their original plane, Magnus is traumatized and also remembering past trauma, so he is Not Having Fun.  
> 2\. OG Alec is in an adjacent plane, and the Alec of the adjacent plane is missing, so the priority is to find Adjacent Plane Alec.
> 
> In this chapter we have some talking and feels to get through. Also there is a lullaby that I liked a lot, linked in the end notes.

Magnus woke in a cold sweat, despite the persistent heat of the cottage. He stumbled out of his bed into the kitchen to get water from the fridge, and wasn't it hilarious? A _refrigerator_ , here in the heart of hell. He knew Asmodeus had set up the place for Magnus' comfort and right now he could only take advantage of it.

The cold water didn't wash away the nightmare clinging to the inside of his skull, but it did calm his racing heart a little. He stood at the sink, head bent and eyes closed.

“Was it what I did?” Asmodeus had materialized in the kitchen soundlessly. His hand landed on his son's shoulder, light as a shadow, and his tone was startlingly gentle.

Magnus swallowed. He shook his head. Even after all these centuries, he still couldn't make himself deceive his father; Asmodeus was too adept a liar for a lie to slip past him, and Magnus never quite grasped the hang of lying.

“I know you did what you did, because you are what you are,” he said. “There was no way that boy would've made it out of the room unharmed, and I've seen worse.” His breath caught in his throat. “I've _done_ worse.”

Asmodeus cupped Magnus' cheek and turned the warlock to face him. He was dressed simply – for Asmodeus anyway – just a long-sleeved black shirt and soft, dark pants. “Do you remember the night I first found you and brought you home?”

“How could I forget?” Magnus managed a tired smile. “Warm and fed and safe for the first time since... since...” A deep shudder shook through him, and to his dismay, tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Asmodeus pulled his son into an embrace and rocked him like a child. He began humming a lullaby. “ _Tak lelo, lelo, lelo ledung; cep menenga, aja pijer nangis; anakku sing ayu rupane; yen nangis ndak ilang ayune..._ ”

“That's a new one,” Magnus murmured, feeling strangely soothed.

Asmodeus laughed quietly. “While I was trapped here physically, I could still explore the world in my astral form, and for some reason I kept going back to where I found you, and I heard a father singing this to his baby one night when the child wouldn't stop fussing.”

 _I missed you_. _I missed you._

Magnus heard the implied sentiment. He sniffed and looked at his father. “You know, those lyrics are meant for a girl.”

“What, a boy can't be beautiful?” Asmodeus replied, a crooked smile on his lips. He touched his son's chin. “Because you are my beautiful boy.”

For that moment, Magnus let himself believe in the illusion that Asmodeus could be a good father. That they could share such moments.

But the moment passed in a heartbeat. He pulled away from the embrace and leaned against the counter. His tongue darted out to lick his chapped lips.

“However beautiful I am, I'm also a murderer,” Magnus said. “Just now... Earlier, the sound of the bone crunching...”

Asmodeus waited.

“I know it doesn't bother you, my killing people,” said the warlock, “but I can't... I can't get past it. Centuries, and it still – every life I took reminds me how far I am from being a good person. I try and try and try, and still, I am haunted.”

“Who are you haunted by, Magnus?”

“Daji.” Magnus laughed bitterly and covered his face with his left hand. “She tried to kill me, she orchestrated a release of hundreds of demons into my city, she practically murdered Alec... And yet _I feel guilty_. She was evil and I feel-” He bit the inside of his upper lip and met his father's golden eyes. “I feel the way I felt when I realized I had to banish you.”

His father tilted his chin in an imperious way. “That you were superior?”

“That I was _vile_ , and would always be so if I didn't change.” The warlock shook his head. “I hated myself then. I hate myself now. I thought I was... I thought, I thought I'd grown past that-”

“You killed someone who tried to harm you.”

“ _I beat her face in with my bare fists!_ ” Magnus corrected. Once he began, he couldn't stop talking. “I could've made it fast. I could have just – just ended her life with my magic. But I wanted her to hurt, and so I kept punching and punching and punching... I felt her bones crack, felt the give of her shattered skull, felt... felt her blood on my skin, and I was _revelling_ in all of it, and I didn't stop-”

Asmodeus closed the distance between them and hugged Magnus again. Magnus was stunned that he was weeping now, shaking with terrified memory of the pure, blinding pleasure of inflicting pain. He clung to Asmodeus, one hand over his own mouth and the other grabbing his father's shoulder. The Prince of Hell hummed the lullaby again. Burying his face into Asmodeus' shirt, Magnus cried, as if he was once again that frightened, lonely boy from ages ago who finally found someone like him.

_***_

Alec lay down on his bed, feeling quite drained from the long walk back. Even with their speed runes, he had to take a few breathers. Whatever Daji did to him had sapped his strength and stamina considerably. He hoped the other Alec – the Alec that belonged to _this_ world – was doing okay.

There was a tentative knock on the door. Alec sat up. “Come in.”

Underhill peered in and smiled. “Hey. I saw Jace and Clary. They said... they said that you had something to tell me?”

“Yeah. Um. Come inside,” said Alec, feeling rather awkward in his utilitarian space. He patted the space beside him on the bed, because the table was overflowing with folders and the chair heaped with even more paperwork. The one part of the Seeking Gate that Catarina loaned him was leaning against it.

Now that he knew he was the one out of place, he really noticed the differences from when it was just him. There were more clothes in the closet, for one, and there was a bottle of cologne that he found quite appealing, even if he never did like wearing cologne. There was also an open box of condoms in the drawer of his nightstand where he kept his spare stele, next to a bundle of letters and photos neatly bound in gold ribbon, and that had told Alec a lot about the relationship between Underhill and the Alec who was supposed to be here.

 _The Correct Alec? The Real Alec? No, I'm real too,_ Alec decided.

Underhill covered his hand that was resting on the bedspread. “Alec? What's up?”

“Um.” Alec pulled his hand away. “We, uh, we went to Catarina and, uh...” There was no good way to say this. “Un- Uh, Steve, I'm sorry. I-”

Before he could say more, Underhill leaned forward and kissed him, one hand curled into Alec's hair at the back of his neck. It was a sweet kiss, full of longing, and the way Underhill moved it was clear he knew how Alec liked to be kissed.

Alarmed, Alec had to push him away before he responded to the kissing. “Steve. Steve, stop. I-I'm not. I-I-I can't.”

“Oh my god. You're not... you're not ready. I'm sorry, I just... I missed you.” Underhill was flustered and embarrassed. “I, um, I thought you wanted me back here with you in our room, that maybe you'd got your memories back-”

“Steve,” Alec cut him off, holding his hands tightly, “Steve, I need you to listen and just.. just believe me, okay? This is not good news, but it's not terrible news.”

Underhill looked a little suspicious, but he didn't pull away from Alec. “I'm listening.”

“Alright. Firstly, I _am_ Alec Lightwood.”

“Never doubted that.”

“Secondly, I am not the correct Alec Lightwood.”

Underhill stared at him in disbelief. “I don't get it.”

Alec licked his lips. “I am Alec Lightwood from a _different_ dimension. In my other dimension, I was also kidnapped by Daji and thing is, in that one, my boyfriend saved me. I think he made a deal with a greater demon. A literal Prince of Hell, in fact. And somehow, in _this_ dimension, your Alec was also kidnapped by Daji and fought her off, but he was injured and all of you brought him back, except the one you brought back-”

“-was you and not him,” Underhill finished the recounting. He narrowed his eyes at Alec. “How... Daji could have implanted false memories.”

“The memories I have that corroborate my words are not in my head but in here,” said Alec. He held up his hand, showing off the amber ring. “Catarina confirmed that these are real memories, not constructed ones.”

“Then where is _my_ Alec?” Underhill asked, so quietly desperate that Alec's heart wrenched in sympathy.

Alec got off the bed and grabbed the wrapped bundle, setting it between them when he sat down again. “Catarina says this is part of a magical construct called the Seeking Gate.”

“Yeah I've heard of it. They used it to track down two rogue warlocks back in the 16th century. Eirik and Eivind. They were the ones who stirred up hysteria and started the witch hunts.” Underhill started to unwrap the bundle and paused. “Is it... Is it okay if I look at it?”

“Sure. But, um. Wait.” Alec hated how hesitant and young he sounded. He was the head of the Institute. At least, he _was_. What was it like over here? “I-I was hoping you could tell me about, well. About your Alec. And then later we could look at this with Isabelle and Jace and whomever you think would be able to help. I'll defer to you in this.”

After a long moment, Underhill smiled. “I call him Alex, usually.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah. When I transferred here, I only saw his full name on the briefing papers and I, uh, I asked if it'd be okay to call him Alex. He said it was okay but I saw that he wasn't too comfortable with it out in the open, and then I noticed...” Underhill started chuckling and shaking his head.

Alec was bemused. “What?”

Underhill waved a hand. “It's just... It's really weird telling you about him. I mean, imagine my point of view, okay?”

Then Alec got it and started laughing too. He said, trying to keep a straight face, “Would it be better if I turn around? You can talk to the back of my head.”

“No, no. I'm good. Where was I? Oh, uh. I heard Izzy teasing him about being called Alex and so I stopped. After we got together, though, he said he liked it, because I was the only one who ever called him Alex. I don't do it too often, even now, because we don't want the rest of the Institute to call him that.”

“How did you two get together?” Alec shifted so he could sit cross-legged on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

Underhill shrugged, but his cheeks were turning pink. “When Jace was taken by Valentine, I kept Alex safe from himself. He almost died, trying to reach Jace through their parabatai bond, and I was so afraid that I smuggled him out of the Institute and carried him all the way to Catarina Loss at the hospital. Then there was the whole ordeal with the City of Bones. After Jace was released from that place, Alex screwed up his courage and asked me out for a drink. And, uh, that night, he confessed his feelings.”

Alec was charmed. “I hope he was more eloquent than I was confessing mine to Magnus.”

“How did you confess yours?”

“I was about to marry Lydia – don't laugh, there were extenuating circumstances – and he showed up at the wedding,” Alec said, feeling his cheeks flush. “So I had to stop, and Lydia told me it was okay, and I just walked up to Magnus and kissed him. In front of my parents and the Clave representatives and uh, the entire Institute.”

Underhill's eyes were comically round. “You did _not_.”

“Yes I did.”

“By the Angel, Maryse must have been upset,” Underhill said with a laugh. “I mean, she was not pleased when Alex and I declared our intention to run the Institute as co-leaders, but when she found out _why_ , she damn near tried to get me de-runed.”

It was Alec's turn to be astonished. “How did she find out?”

“Well, at Max's Rune Party, we had many Clave representatives but the highlight was the presenting of gifts,” said Underhill, his eyes crinkled up in fond memory. “Max said he wanted that to be just a family thing, so we were to wait until the end of the party, and Alex asked for me to stay. Maryse said that I would be intruding on a private moment, so Alex, uh... he kissed me.”

Alec grinned. “Good for him.”

“Well, there were still some Clave elders and representatives around at that time, so news got back to Idris pretty fast. Next thing I know, my family in Idris and Robert were defending Alex and me before the Clave. The outcome was that we had to get married if we want to keep running this Institute. Good thing was, after Alex and I got married, Maryse was a lot nicer to me.”

Alec's face fell. He glanced at the nightstand, and then at Underhill. “You... you two are married?”

“Yes.” Underhill lifted up his shirt to reveal the rune on his chest. “We defied tradition and put both our runes over our hearts.”

Almost on instinct, Alec reached out to touch the rune on Underhill's skin. Then he drew back as if scalded. “Sorry.”

“It's alright,” said Underhill, tugging his shirt back down. “I just... I wish this rune was more like the parabatai rune. I couldn't tell you weren't my real husband. Not until you were up and about, and I thought... I thought I'd lost you – him – completely...”

“I'm sorry,” Alec repeated. He reached out and took Underhill's hand, squeezing lightly. “I promise we will use the Seeking Gate to find your Alex before we do anything else.” He looked around them. “And... and if you want to, you should come back to your bedroom. I can always sleep on the floor.”

“You've just recovered, so you're not sleeping on the floor.”

Alec glared.

Underhill raised an eyebrow. “I am married to the man with that exact same glare, so you can't intimidate me.” He grinned broadly. “I'll return to my bedroom, but I can sleep on the floor.”

“I already displaced your husband, I can't displace you-”

“My bedroom, my bed, my rules,” Underhill retorted. And then he added with a wicked smirk, “And I know where Alex keeps the handcuffs, so don't try me.”

“Hand- Oh, my god, my delicate sensibilities,” Alec covered his ears, knowing he was blushing ferociously now. “I don't want to know what kinks Other Me has, alright? I am a traumatized man!”

Reaching out to try to tug Alec's hands from his ears, Underhill was about to say something else when the door swung open and Izzy bounced in, together with Jace and Clary. The trio stared at Underhill and Alec, all tangled up in bed.

“I thought you said this wasn't our Alec,” Izzy remarked to Jace. “They seem to be getting along the same way they always have.”

Jace frowned. “Alec.”

“We were just playing,” Underhill clarified. He slid off the bed and picked up the first part of the Seeking Gate. “Listen. Right now, the rest of the Institute does not know Alec isn't the Alec that's my husband.”

“I'm not the Married Alec.”

Clary smiled brightly. “We know. He laughs more.”

Standing next to Underhill, Alec glared at the redhead. Clary stuck out her tongue.

Underhill unwrapped the bundle and set out a length of age-blackened wood, about three feet in length. All down its body were etched a series of symbols.

Alec studied the symbols and pointed to one. “That one. Magnus said it was 'protection'.”

“Magnus is a warlock?” Underhill asked. When Alec nodded, Underhill made a sound of disbelief. “No wonder Maryse was pissed.”

Izzy took the Gate from Underhill. “Who has the rest of it?”

“The only one we know for sure is the Seelie Queen,” said Jace.

Clary chewed on her bottom lip. “I could ask Simon, but she's not allowing him into her realm these days.”

“When's the next Downworld cabinet meeting?” Alec asked. “We ought to ask them for help locating this thing. It's just a loan.”

“Not just a loan, Alec,” Underhill said, retrieving the Gate from Izzy and wrapping it up. “This is a very powerful artifact. The Clave has been wanting to get their hands on it for ages. Catarina is a saint for lending us this.”

Izzy stared at the Gate, her bright eyes glimmering. Then she smirked. “How do you guys feel about theft?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tak Lelo Ledung](https://youtu.be/9YRyqh33RBU)


	5. Chapter 5

Magnus woke up feeling exhausted, but protected. He pressed his face into the soft warmth beside him, before his brain nudged him into alertness. Then he jolted upright and nearly stumbled off the bed, but Asmodeus managed to grab hold of his arm before he hurt himself.

He was in Asmodeus' bed, his legs tangled in the blankets. The demon had a book unfolded in his lap and was leaning against a mound of pillows. Crimson-tinted light streamed in from the wide windows, but dark clouds were massing on the distant horizon. The sound of the surf washed into the room like a comforting whisper.

“Sorry,” Magnus sputtered, “I don't mean sorry, I mean, I-I wasn't... Why am I here?”

“You cried yourself out last night,” said Asmodeus. He tugged his son back to lie beside him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Feel better?”

Oddly enough, Magnus did feel a lot better. The guilt no longer weighed as heavily on his conscience as before. What did bother him was how easily he had trusted Asmodeus. The fact that he had allowed his vigilance to slip long enough to fall asleep next to his father... He forced himself not to think of the last time he shared a bed with Asmodeus. At least he was still fully clothed. His eyes felt sand-encrusted and puffy, and his nose was all stuffed up.

The King of Edom seemed to sense what his son was contemplating. “I just want to spend some time with my son,” he said quietly, his fingers combing through Magnus' soft, product-free hair, his other hand splaying the pages of his book open. “I have enough pride yet not to ask for what you do not wish to give.”

The warlock allowed himself to relax infinitesimally. It did feel nice to be fussed over this way, especially since Asmodeus used to cuddle him in the same manner when he had nightmares as a child. “What book is that?”

“ _The Once and Future King_ ,” said Asmodeus, and began reading from the page:

“ _'The best thing for being sad,' replied Merlyn, beginning to puff and blow, 'is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honor trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then – to learn.'_ ”

Magnus shut his eyes and fell into the low cadence of his father's voice.

“ _'Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you.'_ ”

“Is that why you have so many books?” Magnus murmured.

Asmodeus chuckled and kissed the crown of his son's head. “There are few mortals who understand the burdens of immortality. T.H. White was one of those.”

“Sometimes I wonder what immortality would feel like when humans have all died out,” the warlock said. His fingers drummed an idle rhythm on his belly. He had no appetite.

Asmodeus hummed. “Warlocks would still exist, as would seelies and angels and vampires.”

“And demons.”

“And demons,” his father agreed. His voice took on a dreamy quality. “I was there the moment the universe came into being. The blinding light of quasars, the sweet starry scent of nebulae... We had no names then, and we had no need for names, because everything just _was_.”

Magnus didn't open his eyes, but he paid attention.

“And then humankind was made. And they were given the great gift of choice.” Asmodeus inhaled and exhaled deeply. If he had a pulse, perhaps it might have raced. Magnus couldn't tell. “They could choose to be good or evil. The rest of creation... we didn't get a choice. We had our nature: to obey.”

“But you chose,” the warlock interjected. “You chose to rebel. You chose to follow Lucifer.”

“ _Speak not his name!_ ” Asmodeus hissed, his grip on Magnus' hair tightening for a second. “You do not know who is listening.”

Magnus opened his eyes now and tilted his face up to regard his father. Asmodeus was a skilled liar, but Magnus hadn't spent decades with him not to be able to read some of the tells. The Prince of Hell met his son's curious gaze.

“I did not rebel against heaven. I rebelled against the creation of humans. What have humans ever done to deserve the gift of Grace? Of free will? They have only ever brought grief and pain to the world. I saw this world and its wonders made, but everything was entrusted to a species of apes!”

Magnus sat up now to look his father in the eye. “Yet you wear their form and you had children. You keep me here, and I am half-human.”

“Your human aspect means nothing to me.”

“As my mother meant nothing to you?” Magnus found himself asking. He had not thought he would ever have the chance to challenge his father directly on this. If he hadn't had been tortured with the memories of her suicide, he might have surpressed the rage and sorrow forever. The feelings were bubbling out of him now.

Asmodeus cupped his son's jaw with fondness. “She was beautiful, and she had a simple soul. I saw in her a potential for greatness; that is in you. But if you're asking whether I love her, my answer is no. She was mortal and doomed to die; even if she had lived out the rest of her days, it would have been less than the blink of an eye for me. I have no feelings for her other than gratitude for bringing you forth.”

“I don't understand,” said Magnus. Perhaps his vulnerability last night was driving him for answers. “I don't get why you are fixated on _me_. You've had other children, and you took- You _killed_ them, Asmodeus. Why not me?”

The demon cocked his head, a small, mocking smile curving his lips. “Is that what you want me to do? You want me to kill you? Or perhaps you just intend for me to take your immortality? Leave you to be a mere mortal?”

“No, I mean-”

“Because that would be easier for you, wouldn't it?” continued Asmodeus. “You'd be able to marry your precious little Shadowhunter boy, live out your days with him. You could grow old together with him if I took your immortality.” The smile disappeared from his face and his gaze grew hard as stone, cold as ice. “No, Magnus. Of all my children, you are the only one who has shown himself worthy of my name and my blood. You are worthy of more than a mortal life.”

He turned a page of the book. Magnus found himself breathing shallowly.

“I can be patient.” Asmodeus smiled again. “All we have is time, my darling boy. You will return to the halls of your father, Magnus Bane, and become who you were born to be.”

***

It was strange to sleep in the same bedroom with another man that wasn't Magnus or Jace. Alec tried to stay very still. It felt like it had been months since he slept in his own bed, and knowing that this was not really his bed made it even less welcoming than before.

He missed the loft. He missed the ridiculous jewel-toned silk sheets that Magnus insisted on, and he missed watching the warlock's nighttime rituals. The intimacy of seeing Magnus removing his armor of jewelry and makeup meant a lot to Alec, knowing how little Magnus revealed of his vulnerable self to others. He missed the scent of sandalwood shampoo and the feel of bare skin pressed against his own.

Underhill was on the floor, with a sleeping bag, covered with some spare sheets and his own pillow. Judging by the other party's steady breathing and lack of motion, Underhill was probably not sleeping either. He must miss his husband as much as Alec missed Magnus.

Alec wondered what it would be like to be married. He knew Magnus was still insecure about their relationship, and the shadowhunter understood his apprehensions, he really did, but he also wished they could just go further. To see Magnus wearing gold for him, for them... Alec sighed audibly and rolled onto his side.

Underhill turned to face him. “Can't sleep?”

“Not really.”

Sitting up, Underhill tugged on a tee shirt that looked suspiciously like Alec's own. Objectively speaking, Underhill was good-looking. Subjectively speaking, Alec thought that Underhill was lucky Magnus wasn't around in this particular realm.

“If you can't sleep, want to go with me to Luke's?”

“Luke? Why?”

Underhill shrugged. “I don't trust the Seelie Queen, plus Izzy's idea of stealing from her is far too dangerous to even consider, but Luke Garroway has a sense of honor and compassion. Even though he doesn't have what we need, he probably knows where to find it.”

Alec slid out of bed and changed into a pair of dark jeans that he pulled at random out of the drawer, but when he turned around he saw Underhill staring at the wall, his ears bright pink. “Um. Something wrong?”

“No, I just... Those jeans.” Underhill cleared his throat. “You – I mean, Alex – he likes to wear them when we, uh, when we go out.”

“Oh.”

There was a lot Underhill was not saying.

After they slipped out of the Institute and into Underhill's car, Alec asked, “So... what's it like, being married to Alex?”

“Well, he works too hard, takes too much on himself, wants to change the world in a day...” Underhill's tone was both shy and proud. He drove with confidence, and Alec wondered if he should learn to drive too. It didn't seem that difficult and it would make life a lot easier for everyone. Maybe Clary could get a license since she had all the other Mundane registration anyway. “If not for his courage, many other shadowhunters wouldn't have been able to come out and be themselves.”

The Underhill that Alec knew said the same thing to him, and he shared that aloud. _This_ Underhill laughed softly. “Yeah. I'd been afraid for a long time to acknowledge who I was. I mean, everything I fought for in my career... I was afraid to lose it all. It took Alec – Alex – being brave for me to brave alongside him, even though I'm the older one.”

“I'm sure you take good care of him.”

“Sometimes I have to force him to eat,” Underhill confessed. “He never thinks about taking care of himself. Once he was sliced up badly in a fight, nearly disembowelled, and instead of drawing an _iratze_ to keep himself alive, he fainted while helping the rookies. I was terrified I was going to lose him.”

Alec could hear the remembered fear in Underhill's voice. He glanced at the older man and murmured, “We'll find him.”

Underhill nodded and said nothing.

When they got to the Jade Wolf, it was bustling with werewolves. They could hear music and laughter even from inside the car. Underhill stopped the engine but didn't get out of the vehicle. “Alec.”

“Yes?”

“I can't.”

Alec was wary. “Can't... what?”

“I can't look at you and-and pretend that you're _my_ Alec. So for the next few days, if there's traveling to be done, I need you to let me do it, okay? I need to be the one looking for him. Because... because when I look at you-” He could not get the words out at first and had to take a few deep breaths. “I look at you, and I hear his voice from you, knowing you are not my husband... I can't. Keep my fear. I can't stop thinking. I'm scared that he's... I know he's not, I know he can take care of himself, but I am... Don't get me wrong, I like you. I do. How can I not? I don't... I'm not blaming you for anything.” Now Underhill's voice cracked. “I just miss him.”

“I understand,” Alec replied. He cleared his throat. “For what it's worth, I am very sorry he got caught up in my mess.”

Now Underhill laughed and shook his head. “Because of course you were the one who unleashed Daji and her accomplices on the world. You and- You and Alex really are the same.”

The younger shadowhunter smiled lopsidedly. Then, timidly, he offered, “Do you want a hug?”

Underhill did.

***

“If you hadn't said so, I wouldn't have known,” said Luke in the little boat shed, after Underhill and Alec had told him the entire story. “You smell exactly like Alec Lightwood.”

“That's because I am him. Except I'm not.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “When I was still a shadowhunter, I've heard about the Seeking Gate and its four posts, scattered around the world. The one Catarina lent you would be the warlock post, of course, and the Seelie Queen definitely holds the Seelie post.”

“Where's the werewolf post?” Underhill asked.

“Best guess? Praetor Lupus,” Luke said. His mouth twisted into a wry expression. “They don't really trust shadowhunters though.”

Alec almost rolled his eyes. No Downworlder trusted shadowhunters for good reason. Then his ears picked up the faintest sound of a tread, and then a scrape. Something was inside the boat shed.

Luke straightened as well, alert and ready to pounce. Both Underhill and Alec pulled out their glamoured seraph blade. Underhill motioned for Alec to take the left, while he himself took the right.

“Don't,” Luke said. He strode a few steps forward. “Kyle.”

A young man with long hair and a face with narrow features slid out from the shadows. He seemed poised to flee at any moment, although his stance was belligerent when he faced Luke. Alec wondered who he was and why he dared to spy on their conversation.

Luke stared at Kyle. “Can you help?”

“I can lead them to the Praetor,” Jordan said. He was Australian, Alec realized; what did he have to do with the Praetor Lupus, and why was he here?

Underhill put away his seraph blade and Alec followed his lead. The older shadowhunter walked over to stand beside Luke. “How dare you disobey your pack leader?”

“He's not my pack leader,” Kyle said.

“How much did you overhear?” Alec demanded.

“Only that you need the werewolf post for something called the Seeking Gate.” Kyle tilted his head slightly, as if to assess the two non-werewolves. “Why do you need it?”

“That's our business.”

Kyle shrugged. “You can say that now, but later, when the Praetor asks you, you better have a good answer prepared.”

“Later? You mean the Praetor has it?” Alec squared his shoulders, drawing himself to his full height. He hadn't worked with the Praetor Lupus – he had never come into contact with them, but he knew of their work through Magnus. They were as guarded against outsiders as the Clave, and the likelihood of them lending Alec the werewolf post for the Seeking Gate was close to nil.

“I don't know for sure, but if you're asking for something guarded by werewolves, they either have it or they know which pack does,” said Kyle. He brushed his long hair away from his face.

Underhill returned to Alec's side and they stepped outside, away from the werewolves. “I'm betting that the Praetor Lupus won't lend it to us,” he whispered.

Trying not to lose hope, Alec folded his arms around himself. “What if we ask a downworlder to get it for us?”

“Luke?”

“Luke.”

The two walked back inside, where Luke and Kyle were in some sort of staring contest. Before the shadowhunters could speak, Luke said, “We heard. Werewolf hearing really is much more sensitive than you'd expect.” He turned and regarded Alec. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Would you need backup?”

“They'd want to know the truth,” Luke said.

Alec nodded. “The New York Institute will owe them one big favor.”

“I think they'd want collateral, to be honest.” Kyle held up his hands. “Just saying. Shadowhunters aren't known to return objects of great power.”

Before Alec could argue, Underhill said, “We can offer the Book of the White as collateral. That good enough for the Praetor?”

Luke grinned. “Perfect.”

***

Magnus left the cottage as soon as breakfast was done. His pulse thundered in his ears, but his breathing was easier than it had been for ages. He headed to the shore again, because staying inside with Asmodeus was beyond him.

The dark clouds on the horizon had massed over the island now. Wind whipped at Magnus' hair and exposed skin. He sat with his back to the cottage, even though that sent a tremor of fear crawling over the back of his neck.

He was glad for that frisson of terror. Asmodeus was _dangerous._

It was too easy to slip into past patterns. As when the demon first saved him, Asmodeus had been all charm and warmth and comfort; it wasn't until much later that his true colors were revealed. Magnus had been a cherished son all the way until he wasn't.

Asmodeus wanted _all_ of Magnus, all his devotion and love and being, whether Magnus wanted to or not.

There were still two and a half weeks. He just had to hold out for twenty days.

Something heavy landed in the sand behind him.

“You know who I am,” said Magnus evenly. He was defenseless out here, but the Angel take him if he would show his fear to anyone.

“Yes, this lowly one does indeed, your highness,” said the intruder.

Magnus didn't turn around. “Stand where I can see you.”

The intruder crept forward, making soft swishing sounds. It was a small demon, barely the size of Magnus' torso, with iron-black skin, its feathery wings folded back, and a long tail with barbs on the end. “Good afternoon, your highness.”

“Father's instructions were for us not to be disturbed,” said Magnus. He let his glamor drop from his eyes. “He would not be pleased.”

“I come with a message from another, your highness,” the demon said with a low bow. “My mistress is Lilith, your highness, and she has heard of your imprisonment. She believes she can help you flee _his_ grasp, if you wish to accept her assistance.”

Magnus smiled coldly. “Is she not afraid to start war with my father?”

“She believes a child should not be a prisoner of their parents. Of course, you will be free to go where you want to, and in return, she would like to have some... information.”

A tremor raced through the warlock, followed by a familiar sensation of power, insidious and greasy, seeping into his veins and muscles. Asmodeus was watching.

Magnus rose to his feet. “Thank your mistress for her gracious offer, but I am perfectly fine where I am.”

Magic raced to his fingertips, making all his nerves sing with delight. He hadn't really known how much he missed the sensation until this moment.

The demon stayed in a low crouch. “Lilith will not make this offer a second time, your highness.”

“In that case...” Magnus sent a bolt of blue lightning at the demon.

It yelped and leapt into the skies, before it suddenly exploded in size into a gigantic, black dragon. It was easily the size of a blue whale, its huge wings flapping idly and making a sound like thunder.

Gathering his borrowed magic in his right hand, Magnus took a step back, mouth agape, and collided with a hard body. Gasping, he looked over his shoulder. “Father.”

Asmodeus placed a hand on the small of Magnus' back. The King of Edom was as stern as death, and a cold anger radiated from every inch of him. “I'll take over from here, son.”


	6. Chapter 6

When Jace kneaded the knuckle of his thumb into the meat of her shoulder, Clary nearly melted with relief. “Thank God, that feels amazing.”

“Next time try not to tackle Alec all by yourself,” Jace scolded gently and kissed the top of her head.

Clary looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “You weren't around to do it, you big lug.” She closed her eyes and sighed as she leaned back against her boyfriend. “It was so _weird_. Poor Underhill.”

Jace groaned. “I'm glad Magnus isn't here to see that because I think he'd have fried Underhill on the spot.”

There was a knock on the door but before either Clary or Jace could answer, Izzy poked her head in. “I didn't see a sock on the door. Alec's awake – again – and he's still talking crazy.”

“Still thinks he's married to Steve Underhill?” Jace asked as he slid off Clary's bed.

“Yep.” Izzy popped the 'p' and grinned at Jace. “You still have your shirt on! Good for you brother, you're learning restraint.”

While Jace sputtered, Clary laughed and prodded Izzy in the waist, making her jump. The redhead said, “We're not always jumping each other's bones, Izzy, you are terrible.”

Izzy rolled her eyes, but her grin was still very cheeky. She slipped her arm through Clary's and led her off towards Alec's room, Jace following after. “Anyway, I sent out a couple of messages to Catarina Loss and Dorothea. They're coming over in about half an hour, but in the meantime, I figure we ought to chat with Alec and keep him from... well. Throwing a tantrum.”

The trio passed Underhill on the way. The older man was leaning against the wall in a corridor elsewhere, still looking slightly shell-shocked. Clary peeled off from the group and went up to him.

“Hey. You okay?”

Underhill offered a chagrined smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head, like he couldn't find the exact words he needed. “That was... that was unexpected.”

“Yeah, it was. Listen, we don't know what's up with Alec right now, and if you want to take duties away from the Institute while we figure it out, I'm sure Jace will approve it.”

Jace and Izzy, who were waiting for Clary a few steps away, nodded in unison.

“Nah. It's good. I mean, the, uh, kiss wasn't – it was good, but not... Not an experience I want to repeat, because I will never kiss another man's boyfriend.” Underhill took a deep breath and laughed, shaking his head. “By the angel, I'm more rattled than I thought. Okay. Uh... I'm good. I'm alright.” His gaze softened. “I hope Alec gets better soon too. I'll go help with the team looking for Magnus.”

Jace stopped him. “I'll make sure the others don't tell Magnus. I don't want anyone to try to sabotage you.”

“Yeah, that'll be good. I'd rather he hear from me or Alec on this.”

“What?”

Underhill smiled and shrugged. “I don't want Alec to have to hide something from his boyfriend. Secrets aren't good for relationships.”

Izzy nodded before looking pointedly at both Clary and Jace. Clary rolled her eyes and Jace snorted. The three of them waved goodbye to Underhill and strode towards Alec's room.

“If Alec wasn't already with Magnus,” said Izzy, “I'd be tempted to set him up with Underhill.”

“As if Alec would fall for anyone other than Magnus,” Clary said dryly.

“Excuse me.”

“You were the only one available, Jace. A man dying of thirst would drink seawater.”

“Hey!”

By then they had reached Alec's room. Jace knocked on the door. Alec told them to go in.

The man was sitting shirtless on the bed, his hand over a rune on his chest. Both Izzy and Jace squeaked – although the blond would never admit to that – while Clary tried to remember which rune that was.

“Alec, why do you have a marriage rune over your heart?” asked Izzy. She planted herself at the foot of the bed and pulled his hand away from his chest. “Did you get married to Magnus? Wait, how could you do that?”

Alec just stared at her. “Once again, who the hell is Magnus?”

***

Asmodeus gathered power in one hand, the other braced on his cane. His right foot slid back and anchored itself more firmly against the rugged terrain.

Magnus took one step back to give his father space. Then he heard a few more thuds settling around them. With a glance around, he saw that four other demons had landed behind them, spread out and creeping closer, as if waiting for Lilith's messenger to begin the attack.

“Father, we have more guests,” Magnus murmured with remarkable calm.

Asmodeus barely turned his head to acknowledge the other demons' presence. “I'll leave them to you, son.”

“Leave them to me? I can't-” The warlock's breath caught in his throat as the magic that had been denied him suddenly filled him with warmth. When he touched the pendant at his neck, it was cool to the touch.

Asmodeus shifted again. “Deal with the trespassers, dear boy. I have a messenger to shoot.”

Lilith's dragon reared up and belched forth a tongue of purple-blue flame that reeked of ammonia and sulfur. Asmodeus immediately threw up a magical shield around himself and Magnus as fire roared past them. Once the flames tapered off, Asmodeus swiveled around to blast bursts of magic at the enormous dragon. The flying demon was far too agile for something of that size, and it was probably shielded, because Asmodeus' magic barely singed its skin.

Magnus seldom engaged in direct confrontation. He had engineered his whole existence around being irreplaceable and valuable to everyone, and he conscientiously avoided seeking out danger. Loving Alexander meant taking on more dangerous tasks than he used to, but he still saw a lot less active combat than his boyfriend.

That wasn't to say that a part of him didn't revel in the sheer delight of raining destruction down on those who deserved his wrath. When the smaller demons skulking around them crept closer, Magnus mentally prepared the spells he would need, reining in his power and pretending he was still defenseless.

The first of the four leaped for his throat. Magnus fried the demon in mid-air, then swiftly flung its still burning corpse at the second before both exploded into smoke and ichor. The remaining two hung back, but Magnus called up fireballs in both hands and fired the spells at the cowering duo. Shrieking, they tried to run but were soon consumed into ash.

“Get down!” Asmodeus shouted. Magnus barely had time to duck but Asmodeus threw himself over the warlock, just in time to shield them both from a gigantic blast of flame as it crashed down. Lilith's messenger was right above them.

Beneath the shelter of his father's magic, Magnus crafted a tricky little counter-spell to penetrate the protective spell around the demon dragon. When he turned to look at Asmodeus, the King of Edom was smiling with satisfied approval.

The smile stole Magnus' breath. How long had it been since he saw his father this pleased with him? Why did it make him feel like preening?

“Ready when you are,” the warlock said, to cover his sudden nerves.

Asmodeus winked at him. “Go for it once the fire stops.”

The ground around them was turning red from the furnace-like heat. Asmodeus' spell sheltered Magnus from the worst of it, however, and now the silvery little orb in his left hand was ready to be launched. He still had to count until sixteen before the flames tapered off again; Lilith's flying beast was once again drawing breath.

Without further ado, Asmodeus let the shield drop. Magnus pulled his left hand back and _shoved_. The spell shot up, straight as one of Alec's arrows, and a shimmering net appeared and dissolved from the point of impact. Asmodeus took a second to appreciate the handiwork before he drew up a massive globe of demonic energy and fired it at Lilith's messenger.

The demon dragon saw the attack coming and tried to dodge, but Asmodeus directed his magic with a flick of his free hand and it crashed into the dragon. The demon exploded and burned into nothing, leaving behind only a foul smell.

With a cold, dispassionate smirk, Asmodeus dusted off bits of dust on his suit. “Lilith really is trying her luck.”

“She must have thought I'd turn on you,” said Magnus.

“I am glad that she's wrong,” said the Prince of Hell. His fingers stroked down the center of the warlock's neck and stopped at the pendant that would limit Magnus' powers. “I wish to trust you.”

Magnus met his father's golden gaze. “You decided not to when you put this on me.”

Before the demon could say anything, a gray-yellow blur darted out of nowhere and fastened its mouth on the side of Asmodeus' right thigh. Instinctively, Magnus grabbed it and ripped it off, before flinging it aside and incinerating it with his magic.

Then he turned back to his father. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course,” said Asmodeus. Then his right leg buckled and he crashed onto his bad knee. “Except I seem to be going numb along my side.”

Magnus swept his father up to his feet, throwing Asmodeus' arm over his own shoulders. “We can't stay here,” he said. “Lilith knows this place.”

Asmodeus put a hand to Magnus' brow and muttered, “Portal where I'm showing you.”

An image formed in the warlock's mind. Clear, bright sunlight, white linens, open, airy space, dozens of shelves with small bottles of magical ingredients, and a wide bed for Asmodeus to lie on.

“Hold on,” Magnus told his father, before he summoned up a portal and half-dragged Asmodeus through it into the room Asmodeus showed him.

***

Catarina Loss kneaded her temples with both hands. “This is getting really confusing.”

“Tell me about it,” Izzy grumbled.

They were all gathered in Alec's office, where a round table had been placed.

Clary exchanged a tired smile with Jace, and they both stared at Alec, who scowled back at them both with his arms crossed over his chest.

“As far as we've established, you _are_ Alec Lightwood,” Dot said. “You're just not the Alec Lightwood that belongs here.”

“Yes,” said Alec. “Because I am a happily married man, and apparently the Alec that is supposed to be here, isn't married.” He frowned. “Why isn't he married? Don't tell me Steve isn't gay in this world. That would be truly tragic.”

Jace groaned. “Underhill and you – the other you, I meant my actual parabatai – aren't involved here. The original Alec is dating Magnus Bane.”

“And who is Magnus Bane?”

“He's a warlock.”

Alec stared at Izzy. “You're kidding.”

“Nope.” Izzy fished out her phone and showed him a photo. “Look, that's Magnus and you.”

Frowning, Alec magnified the picture and focused on the warlock. “He's so... glamorous.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Alec slid the phone back. “He is pretty, but I don't see what he's got to do with my being here instead of being with my husband.” He patted the center of his chest again, where the Wedded Union rune lay over his heart.

“The ritual.” Catarina slapped the top of the table, making everyone jump. “That goddamn ritual under the full eclipse.”

“Of course! But we can't possibly call up that much power just by ourselves.”

Izzy peered at both warlock women. “Care to elaborate for the rest of us who _aren't_ magic-users?”

Catarina spread her hands and a little illusion of the moon floated up in the middle of the table. Then a facsimile of Daji's tower shimmered into existence. A shadow fell over the moon and glowing blue-white lines flowed up the tower to the top.

“From Isabelle's report, this was what happened that night,” said Catarina. “Midnight is a powerful time, because it is the transition from today to tomorrow. Every full eclipse allows warlocks to tap into dark magical energies. An eclipse at midnight is essentially a buffet for magic users.”

Dot took over. “That tower channeled magical energies up the ley lines into Daji's ritual, but the ritual was interrupted. However, the magic that had been gathered had to have gone someplace.”

Alec leaned forward. “So someone hijacked the ritual's magic.”

“You _are_ a smart one,” Catarina said with a smile. “Yes. Thing is, the only other magic user besides Magnus and Daji that was there was a Prince of Hell.”

Izzy exhaled and buried her face in her hands. “Asmodeus.”

Alec glanced around the table. “Okay. I know the names of the Princes of Hell, and I don't know who that is.”

***

The Downworld Cabinet meeting hosted by Underhill and Alec did not go as smoothly as the shadowhunters could have hoped at first, but with high warlock Catarina firmly on their side, it was not difficult to convince them that the request for the Seeking Gate was a legitimate loan.

“Luke and I will go to Rome to meet the Praetor Lupus to trade for their part of the Seeking Gate,” said Underhill. “Raphael, do you have any idea where the vampire's section of the gate might be?”

Raphael's dark eyes flicked from Underhill to Alec and then to Catarina. “I do. But there is no way you can get it.”

“Why is that?” Alec asked.

“It's in Transylvania.”

Underhill chuckled in disbelief. “Next you're gonna say it's with Dracula.”

Raphael's expression didn't waver.

“By the Angel. It _is_ with Dracula.” Underhill blew out his cheeks. “How do you convince Vlad the Impaler?”

“Send him someone beautiful as tribute,” said Meliorn, who was there on behalf of the Seelie Queen again. “A gift for a gift. It would be rude of him to say no.”

Alec glared at him. “It's a loan. And no, I'm not sending anyone as a gift to a vampire clan leader, particularly one as old as Vlad the Impaler.”

Meliorn tilted his head and regarded him with an annoyingly condescending amusement. “Then don't send just anyone. Send yourself.”

“Absolutely not,” snapped Underhill before Alec could even reply. The older shadowhunter glared at the seelie. “Meliorn, as your queen's envoy, would you please convey to her our request to borrow the Seelie post for the gate?”

“I could,” said Meliorn with a lazy smile.

Catarina leaned forward. “You could, but will you? Do remind your queen that dimensional displacements always lead to plane instability... and the Seelie Court is always the first to feel the effects of such instability.”

After a long moment of silent tension, Meliorn nodded curtly. “I will convey your messages to my queen.”

The warlock let a stream of cyan light twist and play around her fingers. “As I mentioned, the main reason why we need our original Alec back is that this Alec's presence here destabilizes our plane of reality. No offense, Alec, but your existence is a ticking time bomb for us.”

“That goes the same for the other Alec wherever he is too, isn't it?” Alec said. “What will happen if neither of us get to where we belong?”

Catarina blew out a long, slow breath. The cyan light faded out. “If we're lucky, both of you just disappear and it'll be like you never existed. If we're unlucky, both planes of existence will crash together in some sort of inter-dimensional explosion.”

Underhill went very, very still. “Like Alec never existed?”

“Unacceptable.” Luke shook his head. “Both options sound terrible.”

Meliorn's face twisted into a wry smile. “I have no issue with Alec Lightwood disappearing, but I understand the risks. However, you will need to select an envoy to be ready to come to the court if the queen extends her invitation.”

“Isabelle will go,” said Underhill. It was a good choice, if the flicker of a frown between Meliorn's brows meant anything.

Alec chewed on the inside of his cheek. Luke shook the shadowhunter's shoulder. “What is it?”

“I'd like Jace to go to Transylvania with Clary,” said Alec.

“Why Clary?” Luke asked, almost bristling.

“Sunlight and portal runes,” Alec said. He looked at Underhill. “I assume she did create those runes here.”

Underhill smiled and nodded. “Yeah, she did. Most of us still can't get the hang of using them though.”

Raphael snorted and rose to his feet. “I'll have a vampire go along with you. Vlad's clan is not easy to find.”

“Let me guess. Simon?” asked Alec.

“Perhaps. He'll be... interesting to them.” There was a hint of a smile on the vampire's face. “And he is friends with Clary, so he'd be less reckless.” He left without saying anything else.

Meliorn bade farewell to them too. There was a wary light in his eyes, and Alec was privately concerned for Izzy. He would have to discuss strategy with her before she went to the Seelie Court.

“Jace?” Underhill asked when it was just the two of them with Luke and Catarina.

Catarina laughed quietly. “He's a stubborn one, so he won't leave without the vampire post. Good choice, Alec.”

Alec smiled. He really hoped he made the right decisions.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning re: Asmodeus and Magnus. See end notes.
> 
> Also, i know it's getting complicated so i sketched out the way i interpret these different realms and explained it. This chapter is fairly talky because of that. Sorry. Next chapter will be about getting the posts for the Seeking Gate.

It was decided that the information from the Downworld meeting would be restricted on a need-to-know basis, and that list was comprised of those at the meeting, as well as Jace, Izzy, Clary, and Simon. Once everyone knew the risks of having the wrong Alec, they were all on board with Alec's and Underhill's plans to retrieve the various posts of the Seeking Gate.

Dot was the one who came by the Institute to open portals from what Alec still considered his office. It was still early enough that hardly anyone else was around, and those who were were busy writing up reports and setting up the training rooms for the morning team.

Jace wasn't ecstatic about the inclusion of Simon on his mission, but he merely heaved a deep sigh and clapped Alec on the shoulder. “You're sure you wanna hold down the fort here while Steve's gone?”

“I do run the Institute in the other world,” Alec pointed out with a grin. He pulled Jace into a hug and whispered, “Thanks.”

“I want to get my parabatai back too,” said Jace. He returned the hug. “Though you're not too bad yourself. At least I've not run into you and Steve kissing – and _worse_ – in the office.”

Underhill leaned over and retorted, “It was _one time_ , Herondale.”

“One time too many.”

Alec laughed and made a show of looking Underhill up and down with blatant approval. “We could've charged good money for that.”

Blushing, Underhill grinned broadly and shook his head. “Alex said the exact same thing.”

“Keep us updated.” Izzy stuck her hands in her pockets. Since she was going to the Seelie Court, she would stay with Alec to run the Institute. Underhill and Izzy both vetoed Alec's request to join Izzy at the Court; the chances of the Queen abducting or killing Alec were too high for them to run the risk. Izzy would be going to the Court with Dot instead. The young woman bounced on her heels lightly, her beautiful face free from makeup. “Be careful.”

Dot wriggled her fingers. “Who's up first? Luke, Kyle, Steve?”

Kyle stepped out from the back of the group, a shapeless bag slung over his shoulder and his hair tied into a sloppy bun at the back of his head. In the bag was the Book of the White; Underhill looked pained at the rough way Kyle handled the bag. The younger werewolf handed Dot an address and showed her a picture. She nodded and waved her hand, calling up a portal. The three men stepped through. Next up was Jace's team. Simon looked nervous and Clary held his elbow, whispering something to the young vampire. Alec tried not to worry when they went through the portal. It was second nature to worry about Jace by now, even though this was not _his_ Jace. He wondered what his own parabatai was up to, and if they were aware of the risks of having the wrong Alec Lightwood, assuming the other Alec was in his own place.

It was getting complicated trying to keep it all straight in his head.

He still had some trouble understanding why they couldn't just conjure a portal to the world he belonged to. If they could cross realms to Edom and transverse the world, why did they even need the Seeking Gate?

He said as much to Dot while the warlock waited for Izzy to prepare for the Seelie Court. She exhaled in exasperation, pulled over a sheet of paper on Alec's desk as well as a brown pen – definitely Underhill's – and began sketching.

“See, this is our universe. Universe A,” she said, drawing a large rectangle on the left, and then a second one of the same size on the right. “That's the one you came from. Let's call it Universe B. And in each universe, there is a divine realm, a mortal realm, and an infernal realm.” She drew three rounded rectangles in the first large box, and labeled them. Then she did the same for the other large box.

Alec frowned. “Where's the Seelie realm?”

“Don't jump ahead,” Dot scolded. She scribbled down some words in the boxes on the left. “These are the beings in each realm, generally speaking.”

“And the space outside the realms is Limbo,” Alec said, trying to recall what Catarina and Dot had explained before.

“Yep!” Dot shaded the space outside the smaller boxes and within the larger rectangles. Then she somehow conjured a green marker and scribbled between the two larger rectangles representing Universe A and Universe B. Then she inscribed two lumpy spaces in the boxes for 'Mortal Realm' and wrote 'Seelie' in them. “Okay, that's essentially it.”

Alec frowned at it.

“Warlock portals travel within each individual realm,” said Dot. “We magically join up two points within each realm by traveling through Limbo rather than over physical distance. The dimension of time is entirely eradicated when you move through Limbo.”

Starting to feel quite out of his depth, Alec could only nod along as if he knew what she was talking about.

Dot was not fooled for a second. She smirked and added, “Lots of quantum physics and magical physics involved, what with the melding of angelic and demonic runes et cetera, but that's our basic warlock portal. It's not a super advanced spell, so it doesn't really drain a warlock, unless a great number of portals are opened and have to be kept open for ages.”

“Like the time you were caught by Valentine and forced to-”

“I don't want to talk about that.”

Alec bit his tongue, literally, and then said, “Sorry.”

Dot took a deep breath and breathed out. “Apology accepted. Alright. Portals to the divine or infernal realms require more magic, because we travel across realms. This is usually done through pentagrams or other rune-based magics, in that we redirect the power of the ley lines and focus them into forming cross-realm portals. With me so far?”

“Yeah, I get that. I've read about portals to Edom and it seemed to be quite a painful process.”

“It is theoretically possible for a warlock or a magic-user to power such a portal themselves,” said Dot, “but it is likely to force them to the brink of death. Otherwise you need a great effort of will, the sort that drives people to go to any lengths to attain their goals. That's why cross-realm portals are difficult to open, and parties on either side can seal them. As far as warlocks know, the divine realm has sealed itself off entirely from outside portals.”

“What's this green scribbly line then?” asked Izzy, who had joined them without Alec noticing. Some shadowhunter he was. Izzy smirked at her brother and pointed to the green lines. “What is this thing?”

“It's not been proven to exist,” said Dot, “but thus far every research-focused warlock has agreed with the basic theory of its existence. This is what we know as the Cosmos Boundary. A warlock from the 1500s theorized that it is a naturally occurring magical construct between universes, to keep realities from colliding.”

“So what about the Seelies?”

“The Seelie realm is a parasitic realm that feeds off magical energies in the mortal realm,” Dot explained. “Seelies, having the blood of both angels and demons, can pass through portals with minimal harm and thus, theoretically, can pass through the Boundary, because angelic and demonic beings can survive in Limbo far longer than anyone with mortal blood. The rest of us? Not so lucky.”

Izzy tapped her lips and then drew in a tube across from the Seelie realm in Universe B to the Mortal Realm in Universe A. “They can open gateways into the other realms, but they need to channel lots of magical focus to maintain the gateway. So if there is a destabilization of either Universe A or B, this connection is the weakest spot in both universes.”

Alec regarded Izzy with fond pride. “How is it that you get it so much faster than I can?”

“I have the brains and the beauty in the family, big brother,” said Izzy cheekily. “Oh, and the sex appeal, and the diplomatic skills-"

“-and the brattiness,” said Alec, tweaking her nose. He studied the diagram a little longer and tried to picture all of the realms neatly laid out that way. If only he had asked Magnus more about portal magic; he sometimes forgot just how brilliant his boyfriend was. “So the Seeking Gate... what does it do?”

“It opens a path into Limbo and keeps it open,” said Dot. “It'll allow us to seek passage into the realm where Alec – or anyone, really – is held. It is unfortunately far too powerful to be used often, which is why it's been scattered, but it's because of Cat that the Seeking Gate exists at all. She worked out the sort of magic that is needed to power it, and she is literally the only being in this world who knows how to direct the Gate towards the person or people we wish to find.”

“A gate that we will never assemble if we don't get a move on,” said Izzy, slipping her arm through Dot's and resting her head of dark hair on the warlock's shoulder. She was still not wearing makeup, but she now wore a very familiar ruby on her neck, and there were faint copper-colored vines painted along her neck and along her jaw. She looked very young and Alec squeezed her hand, wanting to go along with her to protect her.

Izzy smiled. She probably knew what Alec was thinking. “Wait for our good news, big brother.”

Alec glanced at the sketch again. He'd draw it for Magnus, and have his boyfriend explain it to him when this was over.

[ ](https://ibb.co/bXTMhz)

***

Asmodeus had been paralyzed by whatever toxin that had got into him from the creature. After dressing the bite wound, Magnus extracted a few vials of his father's blood and quickly isolated the poison, but creating an antidote took more effort than expected. He suspected that he needed silver ragwort or perhaps some common hedgenettle, but there was neither in the pantry of magical ingredients, and he wasn't sure he could leave Asmodeus without Lilith's hench-demons finding them.

Of course, he could leave Asmodeus to his own fate, but as much as Magnus hated his father for the things he'd done to Magnus, the warlock found the idea of abandoning a helpless Asmodeus repugnant. He'd been there before, lost and alone in the world, barely surviving day to day; it had been Asmodeus who rescued him before worse had been done to a vulnerable child.

Whatever else, Asmodeus had saved his life.

Right now Magnus still had his magic. Could he risk a portal back home to Brooklyn? The thing was, he didn't know where his current location was. Asmodeus had inserted the image in his head and directed the portal here. All Magnus could tell was that he was in a desert and nowhere near any other human. Outside was barren sand under a crimson sky, the land stretching towards a flat horizon, and heat radiated in visible waves. Even the thought of stepping outside was terrifying, although Magnus knew this dwelling was glamoured and shielded from the worst of the heat.

 _Well, if Muhammad can't go to the mountain..._ Magnus focused on the contents of his own pantry and tried to remember the exact location of the jar of dried silver ragwort. Crafting a portal of a small size was not difficult; it was that he kept worrying whether the collar around his neck would suddenly re-activate and cut off his magic. Then he'd be down one hand.

Thankfully, his memory was still close to perfect. Silver ragwort was indeed the missing ingredient, and after two more hours of boiling, distilling, and casting incantations, the antidote was ready. He cradled Asmodeus' head against the crook of his left elbow and carefully fed the resulting brew in spoonfuls.

It took nearly half the bowl of the brew before Asmodeus was able to move his limbs. The first thing he did was to turn his head into Magnus' side, a smile gracing his thin lips. “Thank you, dear boy.”

“Can you sit up?”

Asmodeus sighed extravagantly. “Must I? This is exceedingly comfortable.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. He definitely inherited the dramatic streak from his father. Helping Asmodeus to sit up, he braced his father against himself so the King of Edom could finish the antidote. Asmodeus did so and then leaned his head back on Magnus' shoulder, while his thin fingers laced together with those on Magnus' right hand. “Why did you stay?”

“I'm not such an ingrate to let you die,” said the warlock. “If Lilith is attacking, then she's not going to stop until you die or you show that you are strong enough to kill her.”

“Our detente has ceased to work,” said Asmodeus quietly. “Once I am at full strength, we will need to go back to our stronghold.

Magnus withdrew his hand from his father's loose grip, but didn't move away from the bed. “Will you make war?”

“She has declared hostilities. My lack of response will be seen as weakness, not diplomacy.”

“Is this about children?” asked Magnus, recalling what he had read in _Pseudomonarchia Daemonum_. “Also, who's Kekasih?”

To the warlock's surprise, Asmodeus tensed. The demon straightened and turned to stare at Magnus. “Where did you see that name?”

“In the book Amon wrote. Who is Kekasih?”

Asmodeus' jaw went taut and his eyes flashed golden. Then, abruptly, he twisted away again, refusing to look at his son. His fingers dug into the bedsheet. “I have given so much to protect you.”

Magnus was confused. “Me?”

“You.” Asmodeus shoulders relaxed fractionally. “You are the Kekasih named in Amon's book.”

Magnus snorted, which was probably not the reaction his father was expecting. When Asmodeus looked at him over his shoulder, Magnus let his amusement show. “Amon said you protected Kekasih from the eyes of Heaven and Hell. Half the world knows who I am.”

“But only a handful know who you are _in relation to me_ ,” said Asmodeus quietly. “When you were young in your power, there would have been thousands of beings eager to capture you and hold you for ransom. Before I found you, there had been at least two hundred whom I slew while I sought you out. I know you've told some people. Those who do know at this point are either loyal to you, or have sold me that particular secret and know it no more. But now that you are here with me in Edom, Lilith knows for sure.”

Magnus suddenly felt sick. “So... earlier, with her messenger...”

“If she could have lured you with false promises and turned you against me, she would have. If not, she'd have chosen to take you by force and infected you with a demonic spirit, made you do things that are not of your choosing.” Asmodeus was now facing his son again and cupped his cheek, his usually glamoured eyes revealed. There was something ice-cold and possessive in his golden gaze, like those of a lion ready to kill. “I have done many things that you would disapprove of, but I have never once coerced you or taken over your body against your will. And for her to even contemplate harming you... I will remind her that I am Asmodeus, Prince of Hell.”

Magnus swallowed down a lump of emotion and rested lightly against his father's hand. It was true, at least, that Asmodeus had never coerced him. Tricked, perhaps, deceived and seduced and persuaded, but never coerced. Otherwise, Magnus would have reverted to the behaviors of his younger self and lost all free will.

“I won't help you fight,” he reminded Asmodeus quietly. “I can't.”

“You don't have to.” The demon rubbed his thumb over the arch of Magnus' cheekbone. It was getting dark outside.

“I'm going home soon.”

“You don't have to. Stay here with me, Magnus. You know I can give you anything you desire.”

“ _I can't_.” Magnus hated that his voice cracked. He hated that he wanted to say yes. It would be easy to give in. So easy.

As if sensing the sway of Magnus' thoughts, Asmodeus kissed him. A hint of his demonic magic raced into the warlock and set his nerves singing. Heat – a familiar, sticky-sweet scent of magic – built between them, making the air crackle. “Anything you desire, my beautiful boy. I would give you all the realms on a string of pearls. Just say yes and stay with me.”

“You can't give me Alexander,” Magnus whispered against his father's mouth. His Alexander, strong and innocent and _righteous_ , in an unrighteous world determined to break his innocence and strength; fair and forgiving, with a vision to help his people and the Downworlders coexist and even thrive together; his brave, intelligent, sweet, giving lover. “Not for all the worlds you can give me that you can also give me Alec as he is, as he will become. No, Father, I can't.”

With some effort, the warlock pushed his father away, and quickly slipped away from the bed to flee to a different part of the house to panic in solitude and silence.

The longer Magnus remained by Asmodeus' side, the more he was reminded of how _easy_ it used to be. To live without being concerned with right or wrong, to live catering only to his own whims... It was tempting. All the bullshit with the Clave and with Valentine and the loss of his hard-earned position to Lorenzo Rey weighed on him. Sometimes, it was hard not to resent a world that didn't appreciate him. It had been so easy living with Asmodeus, who praised him and adored him.

Easy and _wrong_.

Magnus called up a small portal to retrieve something on his desk in Brooklyn. It was the _omamori_ charm Alec had given him, the first of a number of small, thoughtful presents. The warlock clutched it close to his chest.

_Soon. Just a little more than two weeks._

***

While all warlocks were able to conjure portals, not all of them knew the science behind them. This was something Izzy learned after calling up half a dozen warlocks friendly with the Institute, and half a dozen more who were barely cordial to shadowhunters. Lorenzo Rey had been extremely sarcastic about it when she asked, saying that she should consult Magnus Bane, “since he is as good as your brother-in-law now, isn't he?”

If Lorenzo Rey thought that was an insult, he really needed to take lessons in sarcasm from Magnus or Alec. The two of them could cut someone to shreds with a shared look, without ever saying a word.

Currently, the other Alec was scowling as he read through the history of portals, looking so much like the Alec before he fell in love that Izzy was momentarily distracted.

“I think our only option is to see if we can locate this Magnus guy,” he said. “He's the only one who really knows the ins and outs of constructing them.”

“I agree, except we know that he is with his father, who is a literal Prince of Hell.” Izzy flopped into one of the chairs. “I don't think we can get to Magnus without getting past Asmodeus.”

“So we divide and conquer,” said Alec. “We summon Asmodeus and delay him for as long as we can, while some of us go and get Magnus. Assuming Magnus isn't dead.”

“What do you mean, assuming Magnus isn't dead?”

Alec shrugged nonchalantly. “Going by these records,” he said, patting a stack of books on his left, “anyone related to him dies by his hand.”

Izzy felt a deep panic in her gut. “But... Magnus isn't – He can't. If he dies just so he could save Alec from Daji, Alec's gonna kill him. Alec will _kill_ him if he dares to die before- No. No no no, that can't happen-”

She was speaking nonsense, she knew that, but the other Alec understood her nonetheless. His gaze softened and he stood up, walking over to her to embrace her. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Izzy hugged him back briefly. Then she shook herself mentally and smiled up at him. “Divide and conquer?”

“Yeah,” said Alec, smiling lopsidedly. “It'll be fun, fooling a Prince of Hell. Terrifying, reckless, and possibly a really deadly situation, but fun. If we all survive, we should go dancing.”

“You are a lot less uptight than my real brother,” Izzy declared. “I like you.”

“Why, are you thinking of keeping me?”

“Nope!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Asmodeus kisses Magnus.


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh man, Clary would love the light here,” said Luke, shielding his eyes. “The sky's so clear.”

They had exited from Dot's portal near a metro exit and merged with the summer crowd of tourists spilling out of the Colosseo station. Everyone was making a beeline for the awe-inspiring historical site and no one noticed three strangers joining the crowd.

Kyle hiked the satchel with the Book of the White higher on his shoulder. “I need to call some of the senior members. They'll pick us up outside San Sebastiano.”

“San Sebastiano?” Steve asked. Away from the perpetual gloom of the Institute, it was clear that he needed some sunlight.

“San Sebastiano al Palatino. It's the site of the saint's martyrdom.” Kyle swept his hair from his face and took the lead.

Following Kyle closely, Steve stared at the Colosseum with a small smile as they walked through the crowd. “Alec would've loved to see this.”

Luke bumped Steve with his elbow. “You two can always go on your second honeymoon, you know.”

“We'll see.” Steve sighed.

Lowering his voice, Luke asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine, just... I mean, they even have some of the same habits. You know how he falls into parade rest whenever he's giving orders? And he takes his coffee the same atrociously sweet way. Sometimes I think, oh, there's my husband, and then I remember that he's not.” The shadowhunter's face fell, but he shook himself and picked up the pace.

They passed the crowd getting in line to enter the Colosseum, and turned right. Along the way were numerous buskers and artists selling watercolors of the area. Many families were out too, most of them tourists enjoying the sunny day. Luke had to fend off two really pushy vendors trying to get him to buy selfie sticks. Finally they emerged onto a slightly quieter stretch of road with fewer pedestrians, and there were only half a dozen street artists stationed on either side of the road. They had to walk up a long slope. Steve took in the crumbling majesty of ancient Rome, snapping photos to share with his Alec. As they went on, there were fewer and fewer people, and the roads more and more quiet.

San Sebastiano al Palatino was itself a very plain building. Its gray gate was closed, but Kyle led them to it anyway. He then made a phone call and spoke in halting Italian. About two minutes later, the gate opened and an old woman emerged.

The woman bowed gracefully, her long white hair falling about her shoulders in elegant curls. Her skin was brown with sun, and her eyes flashed silver as she looked over the visitors.

“Benvenuto, Mr Underhill and Mr Garroway,” she said in accented English. “I am Gabriella. Kyle tells me you have a request to make of the Praetor Lupus.”

“Yes,” said Steve. He held out a hand. “Steve Underhill, at your service.”

Gabriella took it and pulled the shadowhunter in to kiss both his cheeks, one-two-three. She then did the same for Luke. When she let go, she smiled. It was not a friendly smile. “I now have both your scents. If you harm any of the pack, we will hunt you to the ends of the world.”

Steve met her gaze. “We understand.”

“Follow me.” Gabriella turned and strode with purpose into the church.

The inside of the church was lit with a soft golden glow, but it was not richly adorned. The frescoes that Steve could see were blurred and faded with age. Again he wished Alec was with him to marvel at all the history that had been carefully preserved here.

Gabriella led them to a room in the back, where she then shifted a wall scone after shooing them to stand against the far wall. The floor shimmered and a narrow flight of steps downward materialized.

“Come on.” Gabriella led the way down.

Steve and Luke exchanged a look.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “This is the way to the Praetor. You're not going to be trapped, promise.”

Luke shrugged and walked down the steps, before Steve and Kyle followed. The shadowhunter kept glancing at the young werewolf beside him. From what he had heard of the Praetor Lupus, not every werewolf who wanted to join was admitted; there were stringent tests.

They descended for about twenty minutes and emerged into a vast cavern. At the far end were three seats arranged in a semicircle, and two of them were occupied. Gabriella took the last seat and gestured for the three visitors to walk forward.

The man in the middle raised his left hand. He had a long dark braid that wrapped around his neck twice and flowed down his chest. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” said Luke.

“Good afternoon.” Steve inclined his head. “I believe you know why we are here.”

The man nodded. “I am named Romulus, the current head of the Praetor. You want the werewolf post of the Seeking Gate.”

“Yes,” said Steve. “We wish to borrow it. In return, we offer the Book of the White as collateral.”

Romulus shook his head. “We do not crave material possessions, powerful though they might be. What we are interested to know is if you are honorable. A person of honor will return what is owed. We, as the leaders of the Praetor Lupus, promise to loan you the werewolf post for the Seeking Gate, if the gods prove your cause just.”

“Prove our cause just?” Luke lifted his chin. “And how are the gods going to do that?”

The bald man to Romulus' right stood up and walked to Luke and Steve. “I am named Remus. One of you will come with me to be tested.”

Steve laid a hand on Luke's elbow. “I am doing this for Alec. I'll go.”

“If anything happens to you, Alec and the others will be devastated.”

“Like they won't be if something happens to you?” Steve flashed a small smile. He then nodded at Remus. “Please, I'll take the test.”

Remus led Steve to the side, where three wooden boxes were placed on a narrow ledge. “There are two boxes containing poison, and one with a key. You will take whatever you open.”

Luke started forward, but Kyle slapped a hand on his chest. “This is his test. He has to do it himself.”

Steve stared at the boxes. “So I have a two-third chance of this test killing me.”

“We all went through it,” said Remus. "The gods will decide if we are fit for this sacred purpose."

The boxes were innocuous. Steve studied them closely; they looked identical, save for a few nicks and scratches on the edges. For some reason he started chuckling.

“I'll take the one on the right,” he told Remus.

Remus frowned at him. “No invocation to your angels? No prayer, no bargaining?”

“When I proposed to Alec,” the shadowhunter said, “I had one special fortune cookie made and laid out three, just like this. I told myself, if he didn't pick the special one, then it wasn't the right time to propose. He didn't even think, just took the one on the right and cracked it open.” Steve smiled softly to himself, cheeks flushing at the memory of how delighted Alec had been. “So yes. No prayers, no invocations, no please, nothing. I'm doing this to save my husband. If the gods will strike me dead for it, then that's how it's meant to be.”

Stepping back, Remus murmured, “Open the box and claim your reward.”

***

“Where are we, exactly?” Jace asked as he peered around him. They were surrounded by trees. “And how are we to know which way to go when the forest extends in all directions?”

Simon dug out his phone and squinted at it. “Well, it says we are somewhere in central Romania... Nothing here says 'property of Vlad the Impaler', unfortunately.”

“Wikipedia doesn't have that information? What are the contributors doing?” Clary joked.

“Well, outside of Wikipedia...” Simon tapped his phone's keyboard quickly. “Here. We are looking possibly for a town called Sighisoara, where Vlad Tepes – that's the inspiration for Drac – was born, or the Old Princely Court – no, wait, that's in Bucharest, that's not right, never mind. Um... Snagov Monastery, where he was buried, or the ruins of the Poenari Fortress, or Bran Castle.”

Jace was still trying to get his bearings. “Not the town. Vampires aren't for remembering where they were born. I'm going to say either Poenari Fortress or Bran Castle.”

Clary looked at the map Simon pulled up on his phone. “Dot put us near the fortress, so I'm guessing that's where we should go.”

“It's up a _cliff_ ,” Simon complained.

“You're not going to die climbing a cliff, Simon, you are literally already dead.”

“Oh, are we joking about my death now, Clarissa? We doing that? Because I will talk about you and your parentage in the future. You are so insensitive. Being a shadowhunter has changed you.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Guys, focus. Which direction is the fortress?”

Simon chewed on the side of his cheek. His brow furrowed as he turned around and around, before he settled on one direction. “That way. That feels... It sounds strange, but that feels like going home.”

They set off northeast. The terrain was uneven but they forged on for hours, until the forest gave way to scrubby grassland. The sun was already below the horizon when they saw the Poenari Fortress silhouetted against the crimson dusk.

“Maybe we should wait for the next day?” Simon suggested weakly. “Because... I mean. Vampires.”

Both shadowhunters turned and regarded him incredulously.

“Simon. You are also a vampire,” Jace pointed out.

“Literally one of the strongest vampires in the world,” Clary added. “You're a Daylighter. _The_ Daylighter.”

Simon stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It's not something I can control, you know.”

“Good to know.”

All three immediately whirled around, back to back, Clary and Jace with their weapons out and Simon's fangs at the ready.

Four vampires ranged about them, all dressed in blood-red coats. A blond woman stalked forward and smirked. “So. A Daylighter, huh. And you've brought along snacks.”

Simon licked his lips nervously. “Uh... greetings?” He frowned. “You don't sound very, uh, I meant- Nothing. I meant nothing.”

“Yes, I'm American. Charmaine, from Iowa. Came over for a holiday, ended up not leaving,” she drawled. To the shadowhunters, she said, “Simmer down. Vlad sensed you when you were still in the forest and told us to welcome you. He said you are on a quest.”

“Yes,” said Jace, stepping forward. “To rescue my parabatai.”

Charmaine smiled more widely, her fangs glittering in the weak light. “Then come along. Vlad has extended his hospitality.”

The vampires escorted the three of them up the long, narrow flights of stone steps. There was a metal railing to keep them from falling down the slope. By the time they got to the actual fortress, it was already full dark, and both Jace and Clary were sweating. Charmaine led them through long brick passages that were open to the heavens. It was so dark that anyone who didn't have enhanced night vision would have tripped and fallen. The entire building was a crumbling ruin, chilly and drafty, but they could see the stars overhead. It was pretty, in a spooky way. Fog crept in and obscured much of their vision.

Simon was the only one still perky. “That was definitely more than a thousand steps.”

“Nearly a thousand five hundred.” An older man materialized near one of the metal railings. His thick coat reached down to the ground and his features were obscured by fog, but all present could feel danger radiating from him. “When it was still my stronghold, it had more steps leading up to the watchtower. Hundreds of lamps glowed in the corridors; the scent of winter never left until the autumn, and then it returned with a bite fiercer than any vampire could inflict.”

Jace stepped forward. “You must be Vlad.”

“My children call me Vlad. You will address me as Lord Tepes. Your names.”

“Clary Fairchild.” The young woman looked around her. In the fog, she couldn't see how many potential enemies were around her, and inscribing her sunlight rune right now could be seen as a provocation.

Vlad Tepes tilted his head and moved forward. “Not Morgenstern?”

“Never a Morgenstern. That name will die out. I will always be a Fairchild.” Clary squared her shoulders.

Jace raised his chin. “Jace Herondale.”

“Herondale. A distinguished lineage. Sad to see how it has become so... common.”

“Jace,” Clary warned, grasping her boyfriend's shoulder.

Simon raised a hand timidly. “Hi. It's really a great honor, sir. Lord, I mean, Lord Tepes. I'm Simon. Simon Lewis.”

Vlad moved forward out of the fog. He was tall, with curly dark hair, and a neat mustache and trimmed beard. His gaze was very intense, evident even in the darkness.

“The Daylighter.” Vlad stared at him with a small curl to his lips. “There hasn't been one in over a hundred years. What _is_ so special about you that the fates chose you?”

“I... I don't know, sir. I meant, Lord Tepes.”

Vlad laughed. It was a very charming sound, and even more chilling for it. “You, dear boy, can call me Vlad. Many degrees of separation, of course, but Camille Belcourt was one of mine, and since she is your sire, I consider you one of my children.”

Simon gulped and chuckled nervously. “Oh! Uh, okay. Hi. Vlad.”

“Why are the three of you here? Certainly not to unite a Daylighter with the legendary Dracula,” the vampire asked, exaggerating his accent on the last word.

“We wish to borrow a part of the Seeking Gate.”

“The Seeking Gate?” Vlad sounded puzzled. Then he chuckled. “Ah yes. Szürke Kapu. The name has been watered down over the years, and Catarina never really understood foreign tongues well.”

Clary glanced at Simon. “What's a Szürke Kapu?”

“The Seeking Gate. It's actually called the... what's the word... Gray Gate. It opens a way into Limbo, which among my people was called the Gray, and you can then find an exit either in a different realm or in a different universe.” Vlad prowled towards them and, in a flash, had his right hand pressed over Jace's heart and his left closed around Jace's blade hand.

“If I wanted you dead, you'd know by now,” said Vlad. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “The one you seek – your parabatai - is not in this universe. Perhaps it is small comfort, but be assured, he is safe.”

“Oh thank God,” Clary breathed.

“You will not find him, Herondale.” Vlad let go and was where he was standing earlier, shrouded in dense fog. “I will loan your party the vampire post for the Szürke Kapu, Herondale, on one condition.”

Jace folded his arms. Though he looked calm, all the vampires present could hear his pulse racing. At least his tone was steady. “What is it?”

“Go to that ledge behind you and jump off.”

“What?” Both Clary and Simon were instantly outraged. The other vampires grabbed hold of them both and dragged them aside, forcing them to their knees.

Clary fought their hold. “Jace, Jace forget it, we'll find another way-”

Simon tried to bite the vampires holding him and was slapped across the face. “Don't you even think about it, Jace, Alec will _kill_ us if you die!”

Jace looked at Vlad. “You swear that you will loan us the post if I jump off.”

“Yes.” The ancient vampire smiled. “Or are you afraid to die for your parabatai?”

“For Alec?” Jace returned the smile. Then he turned and stepped onto the ledge. “Anything.”

He jumped.

Clary was so stunned, she didn't even scream. Even after the vampires let go of her, she just remained kneeling where she was, eyes wide, lips parted, her breath small puffs of steam in the cold air. She was the only one actually breathing.

Vlad withdrew a wrapped bundle from under his coat and handed it to Simon. “Daylighter. You have to return this personally when you have found the missing shadowhunter.”

Suddenly Clary leaped to her feet, scrawling something in her hand. “I'm going to kill all of you!”

Vlad only smiled. “Do try.”

Even as she flung her hand up and sunlight streamed forth from her palm, the other vampires disappeared from sight, leaving only Simon and Clary alone on the top of the fortress.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this came a little later than usual. work was a little more hectic this past week.
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter.

Izzy willed her hands to remain still and dry. The Queen stared at her, like she was some new creature for the Queen to dissect.

“You dallied with my people for many years,” said the Queen, “yet this is the first time I have ever seen you here in my court. Perhaps I should have extended an invitation earlier.”

“If you had, I would have had the chance to thank your majesty's graciousness earlier,” said Izzy. She knew better than to be glib with the faerie.

Dorothea bowed. “As it is, we both are immensely grateful for this audience, your majesty.”

The Queen smiled, sharp as a blade. She motioned for her servants to set out plates of fruit and nuts before them. Neither Dot nor Izzy made a move to touch the food, knowing all too well what it meant to feast with the Fair Folk. The Queen bit down on a red apple, her fangs glistening in her cherubic, childlike face. Her tawny eyes were the only clues to her ageless nature.

Tiny lights drifted through the air and danced about the leaves. The air itself was dreamlike, and it was utterly tranquil. Isabelle could see why some people would willingly give up their lives to serve at the Queen's leisure, but she also knew how capricious the Queen could be.

The Seelies were worse than toddlers. They played all the days of their long lives, flitting from one interest to another, and always wanted what they could not possess. When they received what they originally desired, they would toss it away as soon as the next shiny thing popped up. That had been one reason why Izzy chose to have an affair with Meliorn; when the time came to break it off, she was sure that he wouldn't have hurt feelings. While he did claim to have been upset, Izzy knew it was more because she had been the one to end things. All that had been hurt was his pride. He'd have thrown her aside like an unwanted toy at the first sign of clinginess.

“You are here for the faerie post of the Seeking Gate,” said the Queen, tossing the apple aside for her attendants. “Do you know where your brother is?”

“The assumption is that he is in the other mortal realm from which our current Alec comes,” Izzy said after an appropriate pause. On their way to the Seelie Court, they had determined that Dot would not speak unless spoken to, while Isabelle, having had more experience communicating with the Seelies, would take the lead in answering questions. “It is of utmost importance that we return them to their rightful places, your majesty.”

“Normally I would agree with you,” said the Queen. She gazed at Izzy and then at Dot. “However, Meliorn has shown me some of what transpired in the Downworld cabinet meeting.”

Izzy hid her alarm. “As he should, of course.”

“He sensed the power of a Prince of Hell around Alec Lightwood.”

 _Shit_. Isabelle didn't manage to hide her ire quickly enough now. “It would have been helpful if he had shared that, your majesty.”

“Oh, so it's not common knowledge?” the Queen asked, laughing. She was still chuckling when she said, “I have journeyed to many realms and many worlds, Isabelle. Asmodeus is not one to antagonize.”

“Your majesty,” Dot began, “if this persists, then the stability of the dimensions will be adversely affected.”

The Queen raised her eyebrows in mock-surprise. “Will it now?”

“That doesn't seem to concern you, your majesty,” said Izzy. A chill crept through her veins.

“I have seen worlds bloom and wither, like flowers on the vine,” said the Queen. She summoned one of her attendants to come forward and help her up. “The Fair Folk know how to prune away what no longer matters.”

“Your majesty, you would see this world die?”

“I will see all worlds die, eventually.” The Seelie Queen regarded Izzy coldly. Her hauteur and arrogance suffused her being; she knew she was the superior, and for those few seconds under the Queen's scrutiny, Izzy felt like a worm in the mud: beneath notice and utterly unremarkable. “I am immortal, and I have no particular attachment to any world or to any people not my own; and furthermore, I have no wish to invite Asmodeus' wrath. Therefore begone. I will not lend my part of the Seeking Gate to any mortal folly.”

She stood and strode away, leaving Izzy and Dot. The Seelie knights immediately turned to face the two women, their spears held in both hands, as if ready to impale both visitors with extreme prejudice.

Izzy rose to her feet and helped Dot up, squeezing her hand afterwards. Dot nodded minutely as she led the way out of the court. Neither of them uttered a sound until they were back in Central Park, where Catarina was waiting with a wrapped, three-foot long bundle at their feet.

Only then did Izzy break into a wide grin. “Catarina, you wonderful _genius_.”

“I hope we don't get into trouble with the Seelies for this,” Dot murmured, kissing Cat on the cheek. Izzy grabbed the package.

The Seelie post for the Seeking Gate was here with them, while a facsimile lay where the original had been in the Queen's court. Catarina herself had crafted the replacement and cast spells on it to mimic its magical signature. Since she was involved with the making of it in the first place, there was no one better to make a forgery.

Cat conjured a portal and they returned to the institute with their precious bundle in tow. “We'll return it once we have used it,” she told them, “and right now I have three vats of moon wine ready to be distilled as part of our apology.”

“I hope the others did okay too,” Izzy remarked, striding towards the office where Alec was going through paperwork.

Dot checked her phone to see if Luke had contacted her. “Should they be back by now?”

“I'll worry in the morning – oh my god. Jace!” Izzy ran towards her adopted brother and ran a hand over his face. “What happened to you?”

Jace looked terrible, like he had been mauled by a bear. Clary was holding his hands tightly, her face blotchy and red, while Alec was scrawling healing runes over his parabatai's back. If this was after some healing, Izzy could only imagine how bad he looked when he came in.

In the corner, Simon said, “He jumped off a ledge from the top of a fortress. Both Clary and I thought he was dead because it was, like, five hundred feet down a cliff or something.”

“What?” Izzy stared at Jace and punched him in the shoulder. “The hell were you thinking?”

“Ow,” Jace said pointedly. He grimaced and then had the audacity to grin at her. “Look, I'd memorized the layout as we were climbing up into the fortress. I knew that it wasn't a full drop down the hillside, okay? Vlad was testing my resolve, that was all. It was just a drop down maybe thirty feet.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Just a drop. You shattered both ankles and knocked yourself out, you jerk. If not for your thick skull you'd have splattered your brain on the stone.”

“Jumping off a ledge? Was that all? He didn't try to bite any of you?”

“Can you sound more disappointed, Isabelle Lightwood?” Jace demanded sarcastically. He winced when Alec dug the stele a little too deeply into skin to make him stop shifting about.

Clary shook her head. “No, but Simon has to go back to return what he loaned us.”

“I feel like I should be frightened about it,” said Simon, hugging himself around the middle, “but I'm almost looking forward to it to be honest.”

Catarina glanced at him sharply. “Describe how it felt to see him.”

“Uh... why?”

“Tell me right now, Simon.”

“Um. It was like... you know how, when you're a kid, you look forward to meeting your hero because to you they are invincible? And then if they turn out to be really awesome, you just feel like your heart wants to explode?” Simon smiled at his feet. If vampires could blush, he probably would be red in the face.

The High Warlock scowled. “You've been enthralled. He used _encanto_ on you.”

“What? No I'm not,” said Simon defensively.

“Yes, you have.” Catarina's tone brooked no argument. “Though this is the first time I've heard of any vampire influencing another that way.”

“Well,” said Jace, pulling on his shirt and pressing a kiss to his girlfriend's tear-stained face, “if we keep Simon away from Vlad, that ought to break the spell.”

Simon looked mutinous. “I am _not_ enthralled. Also I will see him again. He said specifically for me to return the post.”

“Well, unless you want to be in his clan forever, you had better stay in New York,” Alec said, standing up to stretch. He checked his phone. “And I'm starting to worry about Luke and Steve.”

As if on cue, Dot's phone rang. She quickly conjured a portal and two men stepped through.

Luke was carrying Underhill on his back, and Underhill had a long, oddly shaped backpack over his shoulders. The shadowhunter appeared unconscious and, once the parcel was removed, Alec hurried over to help lay Underhill on the sofa in the office.

“What happened to him?”Alec demanded. He lay a gentle hand on Underhill's clammy brow.

Luke wiped sweat from his forehead. “He was told to pick one out of three chests, two of which contained poison.”

“Has he been poisoned?” Alec asked, alarmed.

“No, he selected the right one. Unfortunately, that was a key to the proving ground, and there he had to defeat three of their best warriors before they would lend us the werewolf post. And then they insisted on plying us with celebratory wine. Did you know Steve can't hold his Trebbiano?” The alpha werewolf fished out the Book of the White from the large, lumpy bag. “Here. They didn't want collateral, but Steve must personally return it after.”

Handing the book to Izzy, Alec peered down at Underhill. “So he's drunk?”

“Probably exhausted and drunk. The warriors were very tough.” Luke frowned. “They wouldn't let me fight.”

Catarina clapped her hands. “Anyway, well done everyone. I'll move these down to the holding cell and prepare them for opening the gate.”

“And the rest of us should leave too,” said Izzy. “Let Steve rest.”

“I'll stay, finish up the paperwork,” Alec said. “Jace, could you get two bottles of water for Steve?”

Jace nodded and they all filed out of the office. In repose, Steve Underhill appeared more careworn than he did awake. Alec tugged off his jacket and covered Underhill with it, and turned off the table lamp. Part of him felt weirded out taking care of Underhill, but another part of him felt indebted to Married Alec to care for his husband. If it hadn't been for him and Magnus, Underhill and Married Alec wouldn't be in this state.

Jace popped in, tossed two bottles of water at Alec, and slipped away. Alec supposed Jace still had to appease Clary, and he didn't blame the redhead for being furious at Jace's cavalier attitude towards life and death. If Alec had been there, he'd have lost his composure too.

He smiled to himself as he looked over another requisition form. When Clary first showed up and Jace became completely infatuated with the petite young woman, Alec had been so jealous that he could barely stand to be in the same room with her. He'd hated her, he'd hated Jace, and he'd hated himself for reacting so immaturely to a development he had known for years would happen. Now, however, he could commiserate with Clary and sometimes they'd even grab coffee together to bitch about Jace's tendency to play the hero. Over time, Alec had to admit that Clary was good for Jace. She made him consider others' feelings and she called him out on his bullshit in a way not even Izzy could. Jace was more responsible and mature after he began dating Clary.

He heard a groan from the sofa and grabbed the bottles of water. Underhill's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled broadly when he saw Alec looming over him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You know, you're really tall.”

Alec laughed quietly and sat on the edge of the couch to help Underhill into a sitting position before handing him a bottle of water. The older man downed half of it at one go.

Alec waited until Underhill seemed more awake. “You feeling okay?”

“I could do with a long nap and maybe a massage,” Underhill admitted, and leaned forward until his forehead rested on Alec's shoulder. “I will never, _ever_ drink alcohol again.”

Still chuckling, Alec rubbed Underhill's back soothingly. “Yes you will. Come on, finish that bottle of water and I'll help you to bed.”

“What time is it anyway?”

“Just after 9pm.”

“It's too early for bed.”

Alec grinned. Underhill sounded petulant. “Come on. Finish your water and go take a shower. You can take the 3am shift if you wake up at that time.”

Still grumbling, Underhill slouched out of the couch and headed down the corridor to the bedroom. Alec watched him go, and an inexplicable wave of fondness swept over him. He could see why Married Alec would have fallen for Underhill. The older shadowhunter was unpretentiously charming and genuine. Alec almost wished he could have seen the romance between his other self and Underhill unfold. He had loved falling in love with Magnus: the uncertainty of reaching out, the nervous thrill of discovery, the growing comfort of being together. The early days of their courtship – of Magnus courting Alec, really – when Alec shied away like a skittish colt, and then that game-changing kiss at his abortive wedding, and then Alec learning bit by bit how to love an immortal warlock with too big a forgiving heart and too full of hidden hurt.

He missed Magnus. He hoped that, wherever Magnus was with Asmodeus, that the warlock was safe.

***

“Have I told you lately how I really don't enjoy fighting?” Magnus asked his father as they collided back to back. Asmodeus' magic blazed as bright as the sun in his left hand, and in his right was a burning sword. Magnus held an infernal blade that glowed black and deadly, something unearthed from one of Asmodeus' many stashes.

Asmodeus grinned, blood-covered and feral. “Could have fooled me, darling boy.”

They had returned to Asmodeus' stronghold – the fortress in the south of Edom – and were immediately set upon by Lilith's hench-demons. Magnus wasn't keen on magical combat, so he relied on the blade to take down as many lesser demons as he could. Asmodeus, on the other hand, incinerated his enemies with vengeful glee, even revealing his cane's original form.

Much as he hated to admit it, Magnus couldn't help admiring his father as they fought off assorted demons. In battle, Asmodeus was every inch a warrior, even with his bad leg, and the blackened, skeletal remains of his wings sometimes shimmered into view when he unleashed another bolt of magic.

Sometimes even Magnus forgot that his father was of angel stock. Fallen, of course, and his real form marred and distorted, but he was and always had been _more_ than a mere demon.

Lilith was human, and then she was corrupted; she was younger than the Princes of Hell. If he truly desired dominance, then Asmodeus could have wiped her out, but he tolerated her presence and shared the domain. For all his flaws, Asmodeus was not ruthless in his ambitions.

Magnus shot half a dozen successive bolts of flame at a handful of Elapids, turning them to ash, then swung his blade to bisect another which was leaping for his throat. Whirling about with the blade slicing through his enemies, gathering magic into his free hand, the warlock could feel the joy of battle surge through him.

Here was the freedom to use his magic as wildly and destructively as he wanted. No longer hiding from mortal, Mundane eyes; no longer subject to the restrictive, arrogant laws set on him by the nephilim; no longer the need to downplay just how _terrifying_ Magnus Bane could be unleashed.

Every now and then, he'd catch Asmodeus watching him with ferocious pride.

Father and son fought for every step into the stronghold, until Asmodeus was in the heart of his library. He slammed the tip of his burning sword into a pentagram etched into the floor, then recited a curse in a tongue Magnus did not recognize.

A shockwave burst forth. Magnus skidded back until he hit the wall, and it felt as if all the air was pressed from his chest and lungs. He could not keep his eyes open. All around him were the shrill screams and dull roars of Lilith's demons – whether they were killed in that burst of power or just sent flying away from the fortress.

When the air finally stilled and Magnus could catch his breath, he stared at Asmodeus. “I think Lilith got the message.”

“She tried to kill my son. She invaded my fortress.” The Prince of Hell looked around, his narrow eyes scanning for something Magnus couldn't see. His sword was back to its innocuous pretense of being a cane. “Lilith will come back here. She didn't start a war without the intention to end it.”

A tremor crept down Magnus' spine. If a war began while he was still with Asmodeus, there was no way Asmodeus would send him back to the mortal realm until Lilith was utterly destroyed.

Magnus had to either dissuade Lilith or kill her himself, and he had to do it soon.

***

When midnight rolled around, Alec decided to turn in. He was amused to see Underhill curled up on his side of the bed, and on any other night Alec would roll out the sleeping bag and sleep on the hard floor instead, but he was exhausted from staring at mind-numbing forms all day and clearing a backlog of paperwork.

He decided to sleep on the other side of the bed, making sure to set one extra pillow between them so he'd know if he rolled too close to Underhill in his sleep.

He drifted into uneasy dreams involving ichor and blood. Someone was calling out for him, and there was a river of flame between him and the other person. Just as he made out who the other was, a thick black cloud rolled over the river, and Magnus walked out of it, dressed in his sapphire robe and free of makeup.

“Alexander,” the warlock whispered, and kissed him.

They were back at home, the loft soft and comforting in its familiarity. The morning light tinted everything gold and Alec kissed his boyfriend gladly. He could feel Magnus sliding his left hand over his waist and the other up his back; he bit cheekily on the warlock's ear and sucked on his earlobe.

And then they were in bed, naked and unashamed. Magnus was beautiful like this – he was always beautiful – bare-faced and vulnerable, gilded by the dawn. His boyfriend smiled at him and urged him to turn around. Alec obeyed, although he was reluctant to look away from Magnus, but he was rewarded with soft kisses pressed to the back of his neck and Magnus' hand squeezing his narrow hip, reaching around to grope and fondle him until he was fully hard.

He moaned softly and reached back to grab Magnus, his fuzzy mind slow to wander why his hand touched fabric rather than smooth, silky skin. He could feel Magnus' arousal pressed against him and whined for more contact, grinding his ass back against his lover.

“Mm. Alex,” Magnus murmured. “Alex, m'love... c'mere.”

Alec was jolted from sleepy enjoyment to sharp awareness. He was in his room, in his bed, and he could still feel someone pressing their lips to the back of his neck and nosing into his hair.

Not someone. Steve Underhill, _the man married to the other Alec_.

Alec struggled free, accidentally elbowing Underhill in the ribs, and scrambled to hide his erection with his pillow. The flurry of activity roused Underhill too. His expression shifted from dazed confusion to growing horror at what he had just done.

“By the Angel, I am so sorry,” Underhill blurted. He ran a hand over his eyes and hair, and then froze, recalling exactly what he had just done with that hand. “Oh, my god, I am _so_ sorry, I should have... I didn't mean to- It was just, I smelled Alex – you – him, I mean, it was a familiar scent, and I forgot... I really didn't mean to-”

“I know,” Alec cut in, feeling his face and neck hot with embarrassment and guilt. “I was... I should've laid out the sleeping bag, I didn't think... I was dreaming of my boyfriend and... Look, neither of us meant anything.”

Underhill nodded. “Yeah. Definitely. I, uh... I'm gonna grab a shower and go check on the graveyard shift.”

“Okay, yes. That's good.” Alec was very aware that his arousal had not fully abated. He made sure to avert his eyes as Underhill made for the bathroom, and then let out a slow, deep breath once he heard the water running.

 _I should try to sleep,_ he told himself. They were going through the Seeking Gate the next day. He really needed the rest. Hopefully, by getting Married Alec back to where he belonged, he and Underhill would never need to deal with what nearly happened.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a little shorter than the prev chapters but there is more description, and i needed to end where i did. hope you like.

While Asmodeus was prowling through the fortress, reinforcing his wards and setting up new magical traps, Magnus pored over old texts on Lilith. Jewish mythology placed her as the first wife of Adam, made from dirt as Adam had been, but Magnus knew better than to rely on a single source of information. If his memory served him right, Lilith was mentioned only once in the Bible in the book of Isaiah, but then again the Bible was curiously reticent on matters pertaining to the Downworld and spent quite a lot more time on smiting and loving.

There were also texts written by demons in Asmodeus' collection. Amon claimed that Lilith was an air spirit and inflicted night horrors on her victims; Abaddon called her the Mother of Demons, at which Magnus snorted – Lilith was known to be barren – and accused her to be the reason why the Downworld rejected the sovereignty of demonkind. Bael, that long-forgotten demon-god, recounted how the Seelie Queen imbued Eve with beauty beyond compare, thus luring Adam from Lilith's side. Her hatred towards humanity was that of a woman scorned.

He was in the middle of Bael's account when Asmodeus returned to the library. “What have you found?”

“Lilith hates humanity because humans remind her of her failure to hold on to a man,” said Magnus, running a finger down the page, “and that she hates you and the other Princes of Hell who could father children, because she herself cannot.”

Smiling fondly, Asmodeus limped over to Magnus' chair. The warlock rose and offered the seat with a bow, and while there was a hint of mockery about Magnus' exaggerated courtesy, Asmodeus still took the offered place.

Magnus returned to his place in that volume. “None of the texts say why you and her share Edom. Care to enlighten me?”

“What's there to say?”

“How did she become a demon?”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “Become?”

Magnus rested against the table on which the other books were stacked. “Wasn't she a human from the start?”

“How do you know she wasn't a demon from the start?”

“Because demons abhor change. It's their nature, to want things to remain the same. Case in point...” He gestured at Asmodeus, whose eyebrows lifted in sardonic agreement. “Having a child changes everything.”

“You're right.” Asmodeus smiled. “She was human, a long time ago, but she made a poor decision.”

There was something about his father's tone that didn't sit right with Magnus. He returned to Bael's text, mulling over how Lilith was expelled from Eden, and her feud with the Seelie Queen for their role in Eve usurping her place next to Adam. There was no mention of how a human, imbued with divine grace, could have fallen so far to become something entirely other. Only greater demons had the power to imbue a mundane with demonic essence, and to have the magic and the cruelty to turn Lilith into who she was now, take away all she held dear...

“You,” he blurted, snapping the book shut. “You happened to her. That's why you both are in Edom. That's why she wants you dead.”

Asmodeus rested his cheek against his left hand, relaxed and regal, every inch the king. “Whatever do you mean, dear boy?”

Magnus set the tome aside. “Did you seduce her? Lure her from her husband?”

The demon smirked, looking devastatingly handsome. He shifted his appearance to that of an olive-skinned man, with soulful, gentle eyes and dark brown hair tumbling to his shoulders. His lips wore a soft smile that hinted of a deep, unyielding innocence. What startled the warlock most was that this man's features were perfectly symmetrical.

“Is this... This is Adam?” Magnus stared, entranced despite himself, and caught himself reaching out to touch the strange face.

“Yes. A perfectly beautiful man, but weak in resolve.” Asmodeus laughed and reverted to his usual form. “I did seduce Lilith, and the Seelies helped us turn Adam against her, but she was only ever the means to an end. Any offspring between her and Adam would have spelled disaster for anyone with demon blood. They were the angels' first attempt at nephilim.”

Magnus' eyes widened. “You seduced her, separated her from Adam, and then turned her into a _demon_?”

“Not that last bit,” said Asmodeus blithely. “That was a joint effort. She was made from the firmament, and to erase all traces of divine grace required sacrifice from all of us. One of the few times the Princes worked together for a common goal, really.”

Heart thundering in his ears, Magnus covered his mouth and tried to process what he had just learned. Then a thought struck him. “So what does she want? To become human again, to have divine grace? To become the strongest demon and wreak vengeance?”

Asmodeus shrugged, nonchalant.

“So why now?”

“Because your Alexander was dead when I got to him.”

“What?” Magnus was horrified. “You promised you'd save him-”

“-and I _did._ I had to use the magic Daji had gathered, fiddle a little with reality and time. That probably weakened the boundaries between realms.” Entirely unconcerned, Asmodeus tapped his long fingers deliberately on the armrest of the chair. “I suppose she just needs to gather a little more demonic magic to be able to rip open a gate into Limbo itself.”

***

Clary drew a straight line on the floor with a piece of blue chalk, following the pattern laid out in the picture Catarina handed her. It was a pentagram, but with hundreds of sigils and runes to be inscribed in it so that the Seeking Gate would stay open without too much effort.

Her right hand was cramping up and her wrist was sore. After some stretching and massaging, she continued with the pattern. Any mistake could mean the gate slamming shut behind whoever had passed through it and they would be lost to Limbo forever.

Clary didn't quite understand Limbo. Luke claimed it was a timeless, formless void; Jace asserted it was where lost souls wandered for eternity. Izzy told her to look it up in the massive library – that was Clary's own fault, because she had asked while Izzy was still nursing her breakfast coffee – before Catarina had accosted her to prepare the room for the Seeking Gate.

Catarina was in one corner of the room, her eyes shut while one of the posts lay across her lap. A pale blue light emanated from her hands and enveloped it. If Clary strained her ears, she would be able to hear a faint murmur in a strange, eldritch tongue humming from the post.

What was her life, even? Why didn't her mother tell her about this magical world where there were fairies and warlocks and shadowhunters, even in stories? She knew, logically, that it was how Jocelyn wanted to hide from Valentine, but at the same time, Clary couldn't help that flare of resentment deep within. She had missed out _so much_.

Yet, if she hadn't lived a Mundane life, would she have become best friends with Simon? Kissed Liam McDonald in third grade as a dare? Won first price at the YMCA Amateur Art Fair? Tried squid ink ice cream when her mother went on an exotic food binge?

She sighed and let go of the tension that had settled over her shoulders. _Focus, Fray,_ she scolded herself. There was still a lot to go, and they had to be ready by three in the afternoon.

***

Alec always had too much curiosity, even as a child; it had taken his mother years to stifle his instinctive desire to dig out the reasons behind decisions and to uncover secrets. Right now, he was away from his mother in as complete a manner as anyone could get, and he wanted to find out more about this Magnus Bane person.

The Jace here was a little more haunted than his own, but they got along very well together. It was practically second nature for Alec to watch Jace's flank and to exchange friendly jibes. No matter the dimension, they had each other's backs. Alec didn't want to meet any version of himself that didn't have Jace, lonely though that might have been growing up and nursing a hopeless crush.

When Alec asked if they should look for clues as to where Magnus Bane was, Jace immediately dragged him all the way to a loft in Brooklyn. “You two practically live together now. You're always – I mean, my parabatai's always here once his work was done. Can't remember the last time he slept at the Institute. We really should give up his room to someone else.”

Alec was a little intimidated at first by the opulent and eclectic decor. The glass chandelier was already rather glamorous for his much plainer tastes, and the luxury just kept piling on. There were many items that were clearly valuable antiques, such as the keris carefully stationed in its own lit-up alcove, and when he stumbled into what appeared to be the study, he was overwhelmed by the sheer number of glass vials and containers, some colored and ornate, other plain mason jars, each with its own magical ingredient carefully labeled on the lid of the jar.

In the meantime, Jace had wandered off to the kitchen, entirely at home. Alec supposed Jace often came over as well, if his parabatai stayed over so much. He kept his hands to himself as he scanned each space, and then paused when he saw a strip of photos inserted into the frame of an exquisite oil painting, almost as if the painting was of less importance.

The photos were crappy, the sort taken in cheap photobooths in malls. Alec plucked it from the frame and stared at each picture. He knew he wasn't really a demonstrative sort except when in private, but the easy way the Other Alec and Magnus Bane leaned into each other's space told him that the couple really relied on each other.

As he noticed other little touches of the romance between Bane and Other Alec, he felt a fierce sense of longing for his husband. The way Steve would hold Alec's hands at night and talk about trivial stuff before they slept; the way he'd share a dumb joke over text on a tough day; the way Steve would always roll his eyes at the amount of sugar Alec spooned into his coffee. He missed Steve's lingering kisses to the back of his neck when they were lying down, he missed the way Steve's eyes would darken whenever Alec put on that pair of black jeans, he even missed the way they sometimes argued over the best course to take in leading the Institute. He missed having Steve's methodical, cautious eye looking over Alec's plans, and he missed having someone who would back him up in Clave meetings, and would not back down when he thought Alec was being reckless.

He hoped this warlock, this Magnus Bane, was as good for him as his Steve.

Peering into another room, he first noticed the faint scent of sandalwood, along with other scents – a distinctive and fascinating fragrance – and then saw the bed, done up in ridiculously luxurious satin sets. One of his jackets was flung haphazardly over a chair in the corner, and next to an antique dressing table with a veritable waterfall of necklaces was a pair of boots that were identical to the ones Alec was currently wearing. The bed was made, but the sheets were wrinkled. It was very domestic.

“Hey, don't tell me you're perving on the life my parabatai leads,” Jace said, materializing out of nowhere. “Found any clues?”

“What? No,” Alec said, scowling at Jace. He stepped into the bedroom and Jace followed. “It's all really... glamorous and sophisticated, I guess? I can't see myself living here.”

Jace shrugged. “Yeah, well, the Alec I know loves it here. All the sunlight.”

They activated the rune to detect spells and magic, and then realized their mistake. Every surface of Bane's apartment glowed electric blue.

Jace grimaced. They'd have to wait for the rune's power to fade on its own terms. “Why did we try this rune in a warlock's apartment?”

“In my defense, I don't know this guy.”

“In _my_ defense, I was never the brainy one of this outfit.”

Alec squinted. There didn't seem to be anything unusual in the bedroom, so he exited and retraced his steps. A few items were not blaring with magical influences: the keris, the photos he had seen earlier, a wooden box. As he meandered through the apartment, he suddenly paused at Bane's desk before calling out, “Jace!”

“Yeah?” Jace jogged over to him. Then his attention was instantly drawn to where Alec was pointing. “How fresh is that?”

On a corner of the desk was a smudge of Magnus' electric blue magical signature, twined with something that was malevolently red. Even looking at the small smear of magic left behind made both shadowhunters uneasy.

Alec exhaled. “We need a warlock who can read this signature and tell us where to go.”

***

 _So that's why I could retrieve my possessions from Brooklyn_ , Magnus thought, rolling the empty glass container of silver ragwort in his hands, and keenly aware of the omamori in his pocket. He was the foremost authority on portals in the mortal realm, but he had nearly overlooked the fact that he easily accessed his loft while he was still in Edom. He had been so focused on saving Asmodeus that he hadn't realized that there was no way he had sufficient magic all by himself to punch a path from Edom to the mortal realm.

No doubt the blood summons he used to call up Amon provided Asmodeus with enough of a gap that his father could send his astral projection across to Magnus' mind. And once he'd made contact, it would have been little more than a small bit of trickery to have Magnus open a gate from the mortal realm into Edom. Magnus had been driven out of his mind with worry over Alec that he'd made so many poor decisions.

Including this one.

Magnus was not a righteous man, not the way Alec was. He liked his little tricks and pranks, and he loved a simple life predicated on having enough influence to avoid trouble. He liked having power at his fingertips, literally. Being able to visit wherever he wanted whenever he wanted was one of the best things about being an immortal warlock. He had all the time in the world, and he could possibly learn everything he ever wanted to learn, savor every delight there was to savor, destroy anything or anyone he wanted to destroy.

And to be able to use that power freely and openly...

Magnus hated to admit it, but he was tempted.

Something swooped into the room and Magnus immediately shielded himself with a silvery, translucent sphere. The demonic being, a strange, pale brown creature, folded its wings and stared at the warlock.

In his left hand, Magnus prepared a fireball. “Who are you?”

“It doesn't matter. I'm here for Asmodeus' head,” said the demon. Its voice sounded deep, with different tones blending raucously together. “I will settle for yours, child.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Don't think so.” He launched the fireball in the demon's face. The demon swatted the fireball aside with careless ease, and with a swipe of its claws, it shattered the silvery protection sphere Magnus had thrown up around himself. The demon advanced on Magnus, blocking or tossing aside the magic Magnus hurled at it.

Four great stone walls shot out of the ground, enclosing them. Once the top was covered, the demon stropped stalking Magnus.

“What the... who are you?” he demanded, hands shaking as he tried to think of a truly destructive spell. Where was Asmodeus?

In the blink of an eye, a voluptuous woman soaked in inky ichor stood before him. Her eyes were very striking and pinned Magnus to where he stood. She raised her chin imperiously. “I am Lilith.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Lilith,” Magnus breathed, feeling the hairs on his arms prickle. “You're here.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “This is your trap?”

Magnus shook his head. “My father's. I am, for lack of a better word, _bait_.”

Lilith's eyes glittered with malicious amusement. “Asmodeus used his chosen son as bait? I find that highly unlikely.”

“No,” said the warlock. “I made myself the bait. I was hoping you'd come.”

Lilith paced the trap. Her ichor-drenched hand trailed along the stone walls, leaving behind a long line of black fluid that hissed as it dripped downwards. “And why would you want that, little warlock?”

“You broke the detente between you and Asmodeus. I was hoping you'd... unbreak it.” Magnus kept a defensive spell on his left hand, and his nerves were taut with terrified anticipation. “What is there to gain in all-out war?”

Pausing in her pacing of the space, Lilith spoke without looking at him. “I was meant to be the mother of great warriors,” she said quietly. “To be exalted and honored above all. There wouldn't have been a need for Mary or her son, no need for that accursed cross. I would have been queen, eternal, reigning in Heaven! Instead, my name is cursed, and forgotten, while those who caused my downfall are kings and princes of great power.”

“They are kings and princes of _hell_ , Lilith, and I'm sure that is no recompense.”

“The walls between realms and worlds are thinner than they have _ever_ been,” Lilith hissed at him sharply. “I will kill your father and all the Princes of Hell who abetted him in his deceit, and then I will walk into the realm of angels to take back what is owed me!”

There was a gleam of insanity in her large eyes that Magnus knew had been cultivated over millennia. Lilith would not be gainsaid. She had brooded over the wrongs done to her for too long. In a way Magnus felt guilty that he wanted her to forgive the demons who took what was pure and strong and blessed and turned her into what she was now. At a different time, in a different life, if he truly hated Asmodeus, Magnus might even have helped her decimate the Princes of Hell. But Lilith would not stop with the greater demons. She would rip apart the angels too.

“I can't let you do any of that, Lilith,” said Magnus.

Lilith smirked, cold and vicious as a viper. “And how do you plan to stop me?” She lunged at him and he put up a shielding spell just in time.

Magnus could feel every blow Lilith struck against his magical shield. Her eyes were wide and wild, barely able to hide her wrath. The ichor that coated her splattered onto the walls whenever she struck. Every time she attacked it and he had to brace himself, his entire body had to fight the reverberations from the impact. He could sustain the shield for perhaps ten more strikes, but if Lilith's assault grew stronger, he'd be mincemeat. Thankfully, the stone walls that had enclosed them was not of Lilith's doing but it was Asmodeus' trap, so Lilith couldn't revert to her enormous demonic form. That would have been impossible for Magnus to protect himself against.

Already he could see fissures in the shield. A great blow from Lilith sent him to his knees and he screamed, pouring all his magical power into holding the shield up. Just before his magical defense collapsed, the stone walls around them dissolved. A gigantic, shadowy leonine creature towered over them, twice as tall as the room, its thunderous growls sending tremors through Magnus' bones. The beast's mane rippled and flowed like smoke, crimson and gold sparks floating out of it. Its golden eyes – six of them – identified who it was.

Asmodeus. Magnus hadn't been this glad to see his father since he returned to Edom. The King of Edom roared, shaking the very fortress with his fury.

Without the stone walls, Lilith was free to return to her true self. Her leathery wings spread out and beat at the air, pushing strong gusts of wind through Magnus' room. She screeched at Asmodeus, the discordant tones of her voice adding to the cacophony.

The warlock scrambled backwards. The air itself reeked of demonic magic, both sour and sweet at the same time. He couldn't breathe properly, but Asmodeus padded in front of his son and growled, “I have left you to your own devices for millennia, Lilith. You should've returned the courtesy.”

Lilith bared her teeth. “The courtesy I have shown you is to acknowledge your strength, Asmodeus,” she hissed. “I'd have killed you a long time ago if I had but the power. But now, thanks to you and your precious Magnus Bane, your little _Kekasih_ , I have the opportunity to finally exact the pound of flesh owed me.”

“You leave my son alone,” Asmodeus warned. His voice was hypnotically low and melodious, and every word was a promise. His three tails swept back and forth, barely missing Magnus' head. “If you hurt a single hair on his head, I swear by all my names I will burn you down to the very last _atom_ of your being. You will be nothing more than the dust mingled with the sands of Edom.”

Lilith laughed. “Empty threats.” She lunged for Asmodeus, who pounced and collided into her. The two of them crashed through the wall and tumbled head over heels out into the sands of Edom.

Magnus tried to calm his racing heart. He had never seen Asmodeus in his demon form. He crept to the shattered wall and peered out.

Asmodeus and Lilith tore at each other. Lesser demons circled around them, ripping at Asmodeus; they had to be Lilith's demon offspring. Mustering his courage, Magnus leaped out of the ruined fortress and skidded down the slope on which the fortress sat. As he moved, he crafted fireballs and shot the lesser demons down one by one, mentally thanking Alec for teaching him more about archery. The demons soared higher, far from the two greater demons, and Magnus went as close to the two combatants as he dared.

Seeing him there, Lilith leaped for him, her fanged jaw wide open. He retreated as fast as he could, but he barely had time for a defensive spell. One of her claws caught Magnus in his shoulder, but thanks to the jacket he had on, the wound was not too deep, and the warlock fired a bolt of lightning into her abdomen, sending her sprawling backwards.

Asmodeus roared his wrath, however, when Magnus stumbled out of harm's way and pulled off the ruined jacket to better staunch the cut. Whirling around on his hind leg, Asmodeus snapped his jaws on one of Lilith's wings. Screaming, Lilith raked her claws along his left flank and ripped deep gashes into Asmodeus' flesh.

“Father!” Magnus cried out. Instinctively, he fired off four successive bolts of magic at Lilith, each one digger deeper into his well of magical power. A strange lightness filled him when he saw her stagger. She opened her wings to fly, but the injured one couldn't open fully.

One of the songs Asmodeus sang when Magnus was still a child flooded his mind. Warlock runes and demonic signs began glowing gold and crimson over his skin, and he could feel a burning heat in the center of his forehead, as if fire was going to pour forth from his brow. Words of power came to him, welling up in his throat like bile. He threw his hands forward and yelled, “ _Inferni detractos in nomine patris mei: Ego mittam te_!”

A blast surged from his palms and brow. The force of the spell smashed into Lilith. She screamed again as she was thrown back. Magnus could smell sulphur and charred skin even from where he stood. His fingers tingled and his breathing grew heavy, while the glowing runes on his skin faded.

Lilith staggered to her feet. Her wings drooped from her shoulders, and her gaze was even more murderous than before. However, at least a third of her was charred black, and she was limping as she moved. With a sudden snarl, she jumped and took to the skies. The lesser demons circled down and supported her. Her injured wing stretched out as fully as it could while they flew away.

Asmodeus sunk to the parched sand. The smoke dissipated in the scorching wind, leaving behind a battered King of Edom. His left hip and thigh were raked bloody, and there were multiple bruises and bite marks. Magnus hurried over to help him up. Then he called up a portal to the previous safehouse, trusting that Lilith's injury meant she would hold off for a while to recuperate.

***

When Catarina declared the Gate ready, Alec was practically vibrating out of his skin. He wanted to go home so badly that he could cry from the yearning. It was ridiculous and childish and by the Angel he wanted to hug his parabatai and his sister and then go home to the loft and restart a search for Magnus to see if he could rescue his boyfriend.

Beside him, a pale and tense Steve Underhill had his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white. He and Alec stood side by side in silent solidarity, even though neither could look the other in the eye.

“Thank you,” Underhill whispered. “I hope you get back to your Magnus soon.”

Alec ducked his head in embarrassment. “Yeah. If all goes well. And thanks, for not... for not hating me.”

Underhill chuckled. “I can never be angry with you. No matter what version of you shows up.”

The four posts of the Gate were set in a square on the floor, and around it was a truly spectacular pentagram with intricate designs. Clary stood in a corner of the room, chalk up to her elbows, and she smiled proudly at them when they gasped on seeing her work.

“Jace, stand there in the white circle on the north side, and be ready to activate your parabatai rune when I say so,” said the High Warlock. “Isabelle, do you have the personal effects?”

“I have his stele and his bow and quiver, yes,” said Izzy. She was to stand in a red circle, to the west.

Underhill then shucked off his shirt on Catarina's orders. She painted him with a golden oil and then set him in a yellow circle in the east.

“Other Alec, in the center of the Gate.” The High Warlock then drew silvery lines along his arms and over his forehead. “This is protection against Limbo. It's very easy to be lost in it, so you need something to give directions. You can call them guidelines. Listen to them, alright? They will lead you to the Alec who belongs here.”

“Guidelines, really?”

“I know. I think it's cute,” said Catarina. She looked at the other three people in the room. “Jace, representing the bond of pure brotherhood; Izzy, representing the bond of family; Steve, the bond of love. You three are what will guide our Alec home. Once the Gate is activated and Other Alec goes through it, none of us can leave. If we do, the way back will be shut and both Alecs will be lost to Limbo forever, do you understand?”

Izzy and Jace nodded. Underhill only stood at parade rest, shoulders loose, gaze resolute.

Catarina smiled thinly. “You may feel as if you're being pulled out of your body if things go a little sideways inside Limbo. Stay as still as you possibly can. Your ties to Alec will boost the power of the Gate, and through those tethers he will return. Now, our perception of time will go a little strange. Do not be bothered by how long it seems to take. Outside of the pentagram, once the Gate is opened, time will slow to a crawl. We will place ourselves outside of time.”

Alec took a deep breath. “All I have to do is follow the guidelines, right?”

“Follow them, and stop for _nothing._ If you hear voices, ignore them. If you see people, ignore them. Unless something attacks you, don't fight _anything_. Finally, most importantly, don't look back. Orpheus failed to do this and he lost his Eurydice. _You must not look back_.”

Alec gulped and nodded. His thumb rubbed over the amber ring that Magnus had passed to him before they fought Daji.

 _I will not look back,_ he thought to himself. _I will keep my eyes forward. I must get back to Magnus._

“Once you find the other Alec, the power of the Seeking Gate should envelop him as well,” said Catarina. “He'll be pulled out of the flow of time, just as we here will be. You can then explain to him the situation, give him this,” she handed him one of Alec's arrowheads, “and exchange places with him. Then you'll be where you're supposed to be, and he will find his way home.”

Alec took another deep breath. It sounded easy enough, but there were other creatures prowling in Limbo. Izzy had given him a seraph blade – not Married Alec's – and wished him luck.

Catarina stepped into the blue circle and let go of her glamour. Her blue skin glowed as she began to chant.

A thick, choking gray haze engulfed Alec. The lines on his arm started glowing, and on his forehead there was a tugging sensation. The shadowhunter tightened his grip on his seraph blade, and started walking, half-expecting to just step out of the square of the four posts.

Instead, it was just more gray fog that sometimes thinned out to reveal shadowy human forms drifting about. Some of them were walking on the same plane as he was, but many others were at odd angles that made Alec's heart clench in fear or confusion.

He kept walking.

***

Magnus healed up as much of his father as he could, but healing spells were not his forte. Still, Asmodeus seemed appreciative, and watched Magnus with fond pride throughout the treatment.

“Why are you so protective of me?” Magnus asked later, once he had tended to his own wound and bandaged whatever he hadn't been able to heal magically.

“Why are you so concerned about that?” Asmodeus sighed. “You are my chosen son. Of course I care.”

Magnus pursed his lips. “Don't lie to me. You have every reason to do to me what you did to the others. Even more, in fact. So why?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Why did you name me Kekasih?”

Instead of answering, Asmodeus asked, “Do you remember the first thing you asked from me?”

Magnus looked away, silent. He hadn't asked for anything initially, and then it felt like Asmodeus never stopped plying him with presents and gifts. He'd forgotten what he had asked for; he remembered receiving everything he ever thought he could want.

Asmodeus reached out to turn Magnus' face with a finger under his chin. “The first thing you asked for from me was not food, or water, though you'd been living rough for months; nor did you want power, riches, or beauty.”

“What did I want?”

“You wanted a hug.” Asmodeus smiled, soft and tender. “You looked at me with your cat's eyes, and you asked for a hug. To know if I was real. And after that, the way you smiled... Oh, Magnus. I'd forgotten the bliss of heaven by then, and yet in your smile I discovered _pure_ _joy_. Your smile, my darling boy, brought me a memory of a time before I changed. Before I fell.”

Magnus could not speak. Asmodeus was utterly sincere, holding his gaze and still gentle and affectionate as he explained. For the first time, Magnus saw a light in Asmodeus' eyes that was not a wrathful gleam, but a glimmer of hope and delight. There was even a film of tears; Magnus realized the grief and rage all demons must have felt when they were cast from heaven.

“For God so loved the world, He gave His only Son,” Asmodeus murmured, leaning his forehead against the warlock's, “but I so love my chosen son that I will give him the world, and all besides.”

***

_Time has no meaning in Limbo. This is why people and spirits go mad in here._

Alec was exhausted. He had been following the pull of the guidelines for what felt like hours. Or perhaps days. He didn't even know how long it had been since he drank or ate. A small part of him was afraid that he would have to walk forever.

What if he never found the other Alec? What if he was stuck here, in Limbo, lost?

His mind nagged at him to turn back. _It'll be fine_ , his thoughts supplied. _You can fall for Steve Underhill. He's a good man. You can take the place of his husband. You're the same person anyway. Just go back, and it'll all be over. You can enjoy a simpler life, away from the politics of navigating the Downworld and the Clave. You'll be running the Institute with a good, competent, handsome shadowhunter._

“Shut up,” Alec muttered. He was angry with himself, and that was irrational, but he really didn't want to listen to those thoughts any more.

He nearly spun around when he heard a young woman say, “You know that talking to yourself is a sign of lunacy, right?”

Alec didn't turn around. He gripped the seraph blade. “If you're behind me and you wanted me dead, you'd have shot me. Please step around in front of me and we can have a decent conversation, like civilized beings.”

“Hah! Civilized. All that means in your human parlance is ugly buildings of steel and concrete. No matter. I can be gracious.”

The owner of the voice came into view as she strolled casually to stand in front of Alec. Her floaty green-and-russet dress shimmered with light, despite the dull homogeneity of Limbo, and her inhuman eyes glittered with dark delight.

“Alec Lightwood,” said the Queen of the fae. “So you are the reason behind the theft of the seelie post of the Seeking Gate.”

“Your majesty,” said Alec, bowing but keeping his eyes on her regardless, even though he knew that should she want him to die, right there and then, there would be little he could do.

“I knew Catarina replaced the old thing with a fake,” said the Seelie Queen. Her coppery hair was bright in a world that was without light, and that made Alec ill for some reason. “I just wanted to see whether the whole tale about two Alec Lightwoods was true.”

“It certainly is, your majesty,” said Alec. He should be going. He really had to keep going.

The Queen smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, for all that she was wearing the face of a young woman. That smile reminded Alec of wolves, the beauty of a predator just before it pounced.

“I have another me in your realm,” she said quietly. “The various worlds have been divided between us. I will help you through the Cosmos Boundary if you give me your word that you will kill that bitch. Once she's dead, I will be the _only_ Seelie Queen in every realm.”

Alec stared at her. “You want me to... to kill you?”

“To kill my rival,” said the Seelie Queen. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. If you refuse, then you're going to remain in Limbo forever. Because without my aid? No one gets through the Boundary. It's your choice, nephilim.”

That really meant that Alec had no choice at all.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see end notes for potential triggers

Isabelle swung around, landing a high kick, and then immediately continued with a series of punches. She could feel perspiration rolling down the line of her spine and soaking into the waistband of her pants, while tendrils of her hair had escaped the confinement of her hair tie and were stuck to her brow and cheeks.

Alec – the Not-Her-Brother Alec – was watching her, his gaze assessing her stance and motions. “Turn at the hips,” he commanded. “Draw more power from your legs – yes, like that – you can add more torque when you start the punch from here and not from here.”

“Thanks,” said Izzy. They were in a state of hurry-up-and-wait, because Dorothea was investigating the foreign magical signature found in Magnus Bane's apartment, and had promised to come by around midnight.

Isabelle liked this version of Alec. He was easier with his smiles and his sense of humor dirtier than she'd expected. Just earlier that morning, after they had sat down with their meals of scrambled eggs and sausages, Alec had quipped that he missed his husband's sausage. Jace almost choked on his eggs, then left the rest of his breakfast uneaten on his plate. Alec had then deftly taken Jace's share, adding wistfully, “You know, a few years ago, taking Jace's sausage would have been a dream come true.”

Izzy had laughed till her sides hurt. Clary had turned almost as red as her hair as she collapsed into an ungainly sprawl on the floor, her knees weak from laughter. Jace had been flushed throughout the meal. Izzy hoped this Other Alec and Jace had some time to bond when they went to investigate Magnus' apartment for clues. After her brothers' return, Jace went to contact Dot and Catarina, and Alec came looking for Izzy who was already warming up. Then he decided to help train her.

At last they were winding down the session. When Izzy stepped into the sparring space, Alec stretched out his arms over his head and then got into a defensive stance. “Come at me.”

Izzy grinned. She missed training with her brother. She and Alec had sparred against each other since they were kids, and they knew each other too well, but this was not her brother, and there were subtle differences to how he responded to her attacks.

They went at each other without holding back. Alec was taller and stronger, his strikes more powerful, but Isabelle was faster and more flexible. They were more than evenly matched. Soon they were both panting and sweating. When she drove her elbow at his neck, her Alec would have grabbed her arm and pushed the attack to the side, but this Alec merely sidestepped and retaliated with a smart jab to her ribs. He tried to sweep her feet out from under her but she hooked his leg and turned his momentum against him.

They rolled to the floor and then flipped upright, smiling broadly at each other.

“You're more evasive than my brother,” said Izzy.

“You're trickier than my sister,” he shot back, then hunkered down, arms up to block. “Come on, Miss Lightwood. Kick my ass.”

Before Izzy could take him up on his offer, one of the junior shadowhunters ran up to them and told them that Jace requested their presence in Alec's office. Both Lightwoods straightened.

“Later,” Alec promised.

When they got to the office, Jace was listening to Underhill. The latter glanced at Alec and his cheeks reddened subtly, but he rallied and continued, “There was a second report later of a demonic incursion near Hotel Dumort. Mr Santiago told us it's been taken care of, but he wants us to pick up the demon. He said it was important.”

“You said a 'second' report. What was the first?” Alec asked. He stared at Underhill with barely-concealed longing. Izzy kicked his ankle as discreetly as she could and he stopped his staring.

Clearing his throat, Underhill said, “The first was an attack in the basement of an office building. Two mundane civilians killed. Detective Garroway was assigned to the case.”

“Convenient,” Jace said, flipping through the pictures Luke had sent to the institute.

“Could be he requested it,” said Isabelle. “Does he have the demon?”

Underhill shook his head. “He said he has to deal with the mundane side of the case first, but according to the stench, it went north through the sewers.”

Jace groaned. “I hate the sewers.”

“I could go,” Alec said, the same time Underhill piped up, “I could bring a team.”

The two of them glanced at each other and then averted their eyes, Alec in a shy manner and Underhill rather flustered.

Izzy sighed and shook her head. Men were ridiculous. She took charge. “Alec, you're not going to the sewers because Dot is going to be here later and she'll have news that affect you. You and I will pick up the demon from Raphael's, then you'll be my secondary if we need to dissect the corpse. Jace, you're to go to Luke, try to get the autopsy report from the forensic examiner and send it to me, STAT. Underhill, at least four in your team, no rookies. Don't go there until I have looked over the autopsy report, so for now, you're to select your team members and map out a search pattern.”

Underhill nodded and slipped out of the office. Jace folded his arms and studied Izzy. “Really? You're asking me to gather intel?”

“No, I _assigned_ you to gather intel, and since I am weaponsmaster, I outrank you. Hop to it, Herondale.” Izzy smacked him on his shoulder and the blond strode out of the room, shaking his head.

Alec smiled. “You make a good leader, you know?”

“Course I do,” Izzy replied, beaming. “I'm Isabelle Lightwood.”

***

 _How am I supposed to respond to that?_ Magnus thought, his heart hammering. He had fled his father's presence and found himself curled into a corner of the ruined fort. The wind scraped through the room and he hugged himself more tightly.

He had to chuckle humorlessly. Asmodeus had found him all those centuries ago, in this exact pose, with him curled up and terrified, starving, lost, and angry at the world. Then a handsome man showed up, his eyes glowing gold like his own, reaching a slender hand out to him, a soft smile on his face. It had been the first taste of kindness Magnus had in the months since his mother's suicide, and even now, Magnus could remember that overwhelming joy of realizing that he belonged to someone.

The warlock shook his head fiercely to dispel the recollection. The movement shifted the pendant on his neck and a strange, sudden doubt crept into his mind. He reached for it without his conscious bidding, and a tingle shot down his right arm when his fingertips made contact.

His suspicion grew. He deliberately let his memories drift to one of those early days with his father, when Asmodeus was showing him how to use fire-based spells for torture.

And almost instantly, his mind directed him to the pride in Asmodeus' face when Magnus finally succeeded in conjuring a rope of flame, and a yearning to have Asmodeus look at him the same way again bloomed in his chest.

“That goddamned motherfucker...” Magnus cursed and unfolded from his place on the floor. Indignation powered him past his reservations and embarrassment, and drove him all the way to face Asmodeus.

Asmodeus was in his library, his walking stick leaning casually against one of the scorched pillars. He barely bothered to acknowledge his son's entrance. “What is it now? I could hear you stomping all the way here like a herd of bull elephants. So ungraceful.”

“You bastard,” Magnus spat out. “You are manipulating me with _this_.” He jabbed at the pendant on his throat, ignoring the little spikes of magic that tingled down his entire spine. “You have some nerve. All the longing and memories and, and fondness... They are all from you! What, did you think that bringing up our Top Ten Hits would make me want to stay here with you?”

Asmodeus turned slowly and regarded Magnus with a cool, evaluative gaze. “So you think you've figured it out.”

“Why else would I want – I don't want that kind of life any more,” Magnus snapped. “I don't want to stay with you and be your... be who you think I should be.”

Even with a limp, Asmodeus could move fast, and before the warlock could think of leaving the room, the demon king was in front of him, his slim and strong fingers cupping his son's chin. “Magnus, Magnus, Magnus. My darling son. You think you know _everything_. You're so used to being the authority on all things magical, aren't you, hmm?”

The warlock could not move. He could barely breathe. For some reason, the proximity to Asmodeus made his heartbeat race and his stomach clench.

Asmodeus' eyes skimmed over Magnus' face, lingering uncomfortably long on his lips. “I admit, that pendant is my way of... amplifying certain emotions and thoughts,” the demon whispered, his voice soft and deadly as spider silk. “But I cannot force you to have feelings that you didn't already have. My power is in persuasion _,_ _sayang_ , not in coercion. If I had the ability to change your thoughts, I would've done so before you ever contemplated leaving my side.”

“Liar,” Magnus murmured, breath catching in his throat. “You're lying.”

Golden eyes ablaze, Asmodeus smiled, and pressed a tender kiss to a corner of Magnus' mouth. With his thin lips brushing over his son's skin, he said quietly, “There's a time for lies and a time for truths, my beautiful boy, and you know me better than all the souls that exist in this realm. I don't lie... when the truth is so _delectable._ ”

Pulling away, Asmodeus smirked at Magnus, and rubbed his thumb over the warlock's lower lip. “Admit it, Magnus, you are tempted by my offer.”

Father and son stared at each other, heedless of the howling winds outside.

“I may be tempted,” Magnus eventually managed to say, though his voice cracked on the final word, “but I know right and wrong now, and I will never pick your side. I will never obey you again.”

Asmodeus shrugged and returned to perusing his bookshelf. “Have it your way.”

Feeling exhausted from this short confrontation, Magnus decided to leave, but found himself frozen in place. The pendant on his neck was hot on his skin.

“Although I must wonder, _sayang_ ,” drawled the Prince of Hell, “how do you plan to return to your darling Alexander Lightwood, when your very own flesh and blood won't obey you?”

***

The wall was all that separated Alec from home. From this family. From Magnus.

Surely that was worth a promise to the Seelie Queen?

Perhaps he could even play a double agent and warn the Queen on his side of reality that her counterpart wanted him dead. Of course there would be binding spells that would force Alec to do what he was going to promise to do, just in case, but that was another reason to rescue Magnus, so Magnus could undo a Seelie binding spell.

Who was he trying to fool? If the Seelie Queen were to put a curse on him, then there would be no one but the Queen who could break it.

This Seelie Queen stared at him, one eyebrow raised, her large eyes gleaming emerald in the half-light of Limbo. She was waiting for him to speak.

 _Wait a minute._ Alec's rational mind slowed his frantic thoughts. _Oh. Oh, that had been too close. Focus, Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Do not forget where you are._

“Your majesty, I have a question,” Alec said. “And I need you to answer me honestly.”

The Queen inclined her head, her coppery tresses tumbling about her shoulders in a fetching manner. “Go ahead, ask away.”

“How long have you been a shapeshifter?”

The Queen looked outraged, but before she could move, Alec rammed his seraph blade through her abdomen and pinned her to what passed for the ground in Limbo. Black blood spurted from the wound, thick gouts of ichor adding unwanted color to the grayness around them. The creature pretending to be the Seelie Queen gurgled unpleasantly before twitching and dying.

Alec pulled out the blade and cut off the demon's head. Apparently, in Limbo, demons didn't incinerate. Or did that mean his angelic heritage didn't work in Limbo?

“Well done.”

A circular gate made of vines and leaves materialized before Alec's eyes, and through it Alec could see the Seelie Court. Knowing this was possibly his only chance, Alec raced through the gate, coming to a stop just in front of the Queen of the faeries.

In her hair she wore a crown of holly and foxgloves, and her green eyes pinned him to where he stood.

“You have some explaining to do, Mr Lightwood,” she said in a light, airy voice, and her approval curled like smoke through the air. “If you were in Limbo on the other side of the wall, that means you used the Seeking Gate. And before you say anything else, I saw you killing that imposter of me.”

“Your majesty,” Alec said. He fell to one knee. “Thank you. I wouldn't have been able to come home if you hadn't opened a path.”

The Queen laughed. “Silly little mortal Shadowhunter. You are a stabilizing force on this realm, so of course I would help you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Asmodeus has manipulated Magnus' feelings to make Magnus want to stay with his father; Asmodeus kisses Magnus again; Asmodeus removes Magnus' control over his own body
> 
> in short, Asmodeus is an asshole.


	13. Chapter 13

For all that Seelies couldn't lie, they were experts at dodging the truth. The Seelie Queen watched Alec closely as he sat at the table and ignored the harvest.

“Will you not eat?” she asked coyly. “Surely you must feel like you've been wandering Limbo for days.”

“Thank you, but I am not hungry.” Alec smiled, mostly out of courtesy and a healthy respect for one of the oldest creatures in existence. Something in her words sparked a doubt in the back of his head, but he didn't poke at it yet. In the past he'd have chased after the thought until it coalesced, but falling for Magnus meant he was learning to trust his subconscious self a lot more.

“Well,” said the Queen, “in that case, perhaps you could answer some of our questions. For instance, how did you know that Queen in Limbo was an imposter?”

“Instinct, your majesty,” he said instead. It was not a lie – he hadn't known for sure until he had stabbed her, but he had known there was something off. Perhaps because that shapeshifter didn't have a retinue and the Queen would not have come solo to talk with a mere shadowhunter. Because it wasn't a task only Alec could do, and Seelies didn't trust shadowhunters. Because she looked too fresh and young.

He didn't know what it was, exactly. He still didn't. He just _did._

She raised an eyebrow. “Strong instincts.”

He kept his mouth shut. When dealing with the Seelie, it was better to be patient, and Alec was glad he wasn't one of those types who had to fill the quiet spaces of a conversation with inane chatter.

_For surely you have been wandering Limbo for days._

She had been keeping tabs on him. She had watched him, and she had not extended a hand to help, not until he killed the demon that wore her face. 

The Queen nodded imperiously at one of her attendants, who tiptoed forward and set down glasses of wine in front of her and Alec. The attendant glanced at Alec from under his long, curving lashes, his full lips curved in a shy and inviting smile. If Alec had any doubts about what the seelie attendant intended, it became very clear when the latter trailed his hand over the back of the shadowhunter's shoulders, making Alec shiver involuntarily.

“His name is Zephyr,” the Queen said, in the air of confiding a scandalous secret.

“He seems nice,” Alec offered blandly.

“Back to what we were discussing...” She sipped her wine languidly. “You were displaced from your realm and sent to another, and now you're looking for a way back.”

Alec inclined his head. “The High Warlock said I'd be led to my replacement. Not that I'm not grateful to be here, your majesty; the ethereal beauty of the Seelie Court is always a wondrous sight to behold.”

_Good grief, it's like I've been taking smarm lessons from Lorenzo Rey or something._

The Queen soaked it all up, however, and her face glowed from the flattery. Alec had been taught well. Maryse would have been proud.

Not privy to Alec's thoughts, the Seelie Queen motioned to Zephyr. “Do you like him?” she asked Alec. “I can give him to you. A reward for that little show in Limbo. Other nephilim children would have fallen for that trick. A few did.”

Alec tried to hide his alarm. “Your majesty, was that incident not unusual?”

The Queen sighed languidly, resting her petal-soft cheek on one dainty hand. “They want to cross dimensions, and they know that I have a terrible habit of opening doors to mortals stuck in Limbo. They enjoy hitching rides on people. Of course, once I help them to pass through the Cosmos Boundary, they are mine to deal with, and _my_ children have fun for days and days. Some last for months, even. I suppose there are three or four still trying to escape the Wander-Woods.”

 _She traps them in games and tortures them to death. She wanted to watch me go mad in Limbo._ Alec forced a smile on his face, pretending he didn't understand what her words implied. “You are very altruistic to save them from Limbo, your majesty.”

“That is a new word to describe me.” She laughed prettily. Sparkles of jewel-toned light danced around her. It was easy to see why she was the Queen: many would have wanted to serve one such as she. Yet Alec kept in mind what she was: an ageless, heartless, remorseless creature of the wild, who preyed on the weak through cunning and spite, and tricked the strong into servitude.

“ _'What don't die can't live. What don't live can't change. What don't change can't learn.'” Magnus pointed out the lines in the book to Alec, and sighed. “I miss Pratchett. He had such a way with words. And he knew Downworlders – not like he socialized with us, but in the way he knew how we worked.”_

_Alec nuzzled his lover. “And what you recited – he was describing elves?”_

“ _Yes, or the Fair Folk, as they used to be called,” said Magnus quietly. “But they apply to every living thing which is not mortal. I keep his words close to my heart now. If only I had his wisdom after Camille! It would not have taken me a century to truly live again.”_

“ _But it has been worth the wait, I hope?” Alec asked, teasing shyly._

_Magnus kissed him on the lips, soft and reverent. “Very much so, Alexander.”_

Alec smiled at the Queen and then at the sweet-faced attendant. Gifts from the Seelie Queen had to be declined. “I thank you, your majesty, for your generous offer to give me Zephyr, but I do not think Magnus would be pleased if I should have a seelie all to myself, and surely Zephyr would prefer to remain by your side.”

“I could offer you two Seelies,” the Queen said. “Magnus would understand.”

“You could, your majesty, but there is truly no need.” Alec didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he heard his boyfriend's name fall from the Queen's lips. This was the correct universe, and that meant that he should be able to grab the other Alec and make the transfer. He could still feel the tethers of the spell Catarina had cast looped over his wrists, although the sensation was faint. How long has it been on that side? He must find the other Alec and return him.

The Queen sighed extravagantly. “You mortals and your notions of propriety and morals... It was so much easier back then. We want, we take, we have, and we move on.”

Alec bit his tongue before he could remark how callous and selfish that way of life was. Instead, he smiled and said, “If your majesty could grant both of me safe passage to our respective realms, it will be thanks enough. And... and if you could be so kind and magnanimous as to forgive us our trespasses, for borrowing the Seelie post for the Seeking Gate.”

The Seelie Queen waved a languid hand, no longer interested now that Alec had refused her offers. “Fine. I meant to have kept you around a little longer, to see what may happen, but you being so... so _dull_ , you bore me. Zephyr, take him there now. Inarys, attend me.”

Thus dismissed, the shadowhunter stood and bowed respectfully before hurrying after the willowy Zephyr. _Soon_ , he thought, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself focused, _soon. Wait for me, Magnus._

***

“I hate having to do this to you, _kekasih_ , but truly, the keenness of your insight is surpassed only by your tendency to ruin my plans.” Asmodeus was already ensconced in his armchair, armed with a glass of wine he had conjured out of thin air.

He gestured and Magnus was soon sitting next to his father's legs, head resting on Asmodeus' left knee. The demon king rubbed his smooth fingers along the back of Magnus' neck. Soon, the warlock's whole body was relaxed and warm, his breathing easy and slow.

Asmodeus hummed. His contentment was palpable.

Magnus wanted to scream.

His mind was trying to force his body to move. Even a toe, or the tip of a finger. Even to change the pace of his breathing, or to blink.

Nothing. Nothing obeyed the desperate demands of his mind. He was not in the driver's seat of his own body.

“I can _feel_ you thinking,” his father drawled, now trailing his fingertips through Magnus' hair. “No, you are not possessed by any demon. I just... revoked your access to your body, that is all. And before you begin to think that I'm going to take advantage in _that_ way, don't worry. I prefer my lovers fully engaged in the process.”

Now Asmodeus rested his hand on the side of his son's neck. Magnus wanted to flinch. He wanted to fight.

He could do neither.

Asmodeus started caressing Magnus, petting him in an absent manner. Every touch made Magnus cringe, except his body betrayed him and relaxed even further.

The demon murmured, his tone almost dreamy, “These past few days, I've thought over what it has been like with you beside me again, like the old days. Back when life was simpler for you. All you had to do was articulate your wishes and they were met. I taught you about magic, about desire, about _power_ ; you loved me with all your body and heart and soul. And I thought, it should be easy going back to that.”

His hand paused, over the pulse point on Magnus' neck. How odd was it for a demon king to feel a heartbeat beneath his fingers, not having any heart in his own chest? Asmodeus' hand curled around his son's throat and tightened fractionally.

“But the past few days has shown me the truth. We cannot go back. You resent me for being honest to my nature; you've chosen to be weakened by love for the base and lesser creatures of the mortal realm; you think I am evil, when all I have ever wanted was for us to reign together.” He sounded almost regretful. “We cannot go back, because you have changed too much, my darling, my beautiful boy.”

His grip tightened further. It was getting hard for Magnus to breathe. Yet his hands remained lax on his knees, his spine loose and yielding.

 _Am I to die like this?_ the warlock thought in despair. He could not even lift a single finger to fight for his life. _Alexander, Alexander, my love, my love, I am so sorry, I wish I could see you one more time-_

“And that nephilim _boy_ is my greatest obstacle right now.” The King of Edom lifted his son by the neck. His golden cat's eyes were blazing with cold fury. “No matter.”

He let go of Magnus' throat.

The warlock collapsed at his father's feet. Gasping for air, Magnus reached for his neck, only to realize he once again had control of his body. He jerked his head upright when his father stood, but before he could react, Asmodeus clamped his right hand atop Magnus' head. His thumb and fingers pressed against Magnus' scalp. Immediately, Magnus was no longer in charge of his body. Every part of him went limp.

 _No._ Magnus knew what was coming. _No no no no no please no-_

“This may hurt a little,” he said. As demons often did, he was lying.

It hurt a lot.

***

Alec pulled on his leather jacket, frowning slightly at the scent of sandalwood, but after the visit to Magnus Bane's apartment, he suspected the reason for the warlock's fragrance clinging to the Other Alec's clothes.

As he strode towards the main operations center, he saw Steve Underhill in the hallway, talking intently to Abigail Silverstone. The woman took a file from Steve and walked off, which was when he looked up and saw Alec staring at him.

Alec cleared his throat. “She's part of your team?”

“Yeah,” said Steve. He licked his upper lip and glanced away for a second, before meeting Alec's eyes again. “She's, uh, she's thorough.”

It was unbearable, seeing Steve yet knowing this was _not_ his Steve. Alec ducked his head and walked forward, unsure of what he was going to do or say, but unable to stay far away from him regardless. He stopped when he was just a pace in front of the other man. One look at the slight panic in Steve's eyes made Alec's heart clench.

There was a small room to one side, where the servers were. Alec pulled Steve into the room and shut the door.

“I'm not going to kiss you,” he blurted out instantly, in case that was what Steve thought was about to happen.

Steve smiled, embarrassed and adorable. “I was not thinking that.”

“Well, um.” Alec batted away his awkwardness. In the small room, there was no escaping each other at all. The familiar fragrance of Steve's elegant cologne sent a pang of longing rippling through Alec's chest and he squashed it down. “Yeah, I mean, you – you are my husband, in my world, and I just... I'm concerned, that's all.”

Even though Alec was tall, Steve only had to tilt his face up slightly. “What about?”

“Over here, the other me is involved with a warlock, and by all accounts they are very happy together,” said Alec in a low voice. “But what about you? Are you happy? Is there someone-”

Suddenly Alec didn't want to know. What if there was someone who was more compatible with Steve? What if that person showed up in their lives back home?

Unaware of Alec's inner monologue, Steve smiled and said with rueful regret, “No, not at the moment. We broke up a week ago. He was, uh, less than pleased about my insistence to remain in New York because he was angling for a promotion to Buenos Aires. He thought I lacked ambition.”

“Then he's a fool,” Alec said harshly. He inhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know you, here, but everyone is pretty much the same here and back home, and the Steve I know has ambition, but not to climb the ranks. He – you – are loyal and dedicated, and you are steady. You keep me from flying off the rails and making impulsive decisions and you, you are a _rock,_ and if he can't see that then he doesn't deserve you.”

Steve blinked a few times, as if startled by Alec's vehemence, but then he grinned. “Thanks. Listen, I know this sounds... this sounds strange, but I hope the other me believes in you the way you believe in him, and if the other me ever hurts you, you have my permission to kick my ass.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Alec replied, chuckling, and reached to open the door for Steve, but the latter was already grasping the handle.

When his hand closed over Steve's, the ripple of yearning suddenly roared into a tsunami. Alec let go and watched Steve step outside. Shaken by the extent of his feelings, Alec stumbled to a wall and leaned against it. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite on the back of his hand.

He had wanted, so much, to pull Steve away from the door and shove him against it instead, to kiss him senseless, to drop to his knees and just love him. But this Steve was not his Steve, and if he had done any of the things that had flashed through his mind, he'd have hurt this Steve.

He was still trying to regain his composure when a round portal suddenly shimmered into existence, bordered with what appeared to be vines and leaves. Alec was about to yank the door open to shout for help when another Alec stepped through, hands up and unarmed. An amber ring glinted on his left index finger.

“Hi,” said the other Alec. “It's kinda hard to explain, but you need to get back to your husband and your family.”

Alec gaped. “They... they're okay? Is Steve safe?”

"He's fine, they're all fine," said Other Alec hurriedly. For some reason, the mention of Steve brought a flush up on Other Alec's cheeks. Alec narrowed his eyes. He knew his own tells. There was a story there. He would have to interrogate Steve later... after kissing him senseless and maybe half a day off to 'reconnect', emphasis on the connecting part.

They compared dates and times. The Other Alec seemed inordinately relieved. 

"I thought I'd been in Limbo for days," he said. "But it's been barely more than two hours. Cat's spell should last a while yet."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an arrowhead.

“Here,” he said. “Catarina said to give you this.”

Alec took it. The second he grasped it, he felt invisible ropes loop over his wrists and _something_ caught in his chest. “What the-”

The portal glowed.

Other Alec handed him a seraph blade and said, “Follow Zephyr and the pull of the spell. Don't turn back, not for anything or anyone, just keep going. The Seelie Queen is granting us safe passage through the Cosmos Boundary – Dot will explain when you get back – so you gotta go now.”

Alec didn't have to be told twice. He smiled at his other self, and on impulse, hugged him, before running into the portal.

The portal shimmered and disappeared.

***

Stepping out of the server room, Alec Lightwood nearly collapsed to his knees with relief.

He was home.

 


	14. Chapter 14

The seelie named Zephyr tried to seduce him. Coy glances, lip-biting, a lingering caress on the pretext of leading him into Limbo by the hand...

Alec was almost insulted. Did the Queen really think he was that faithless a husband?

Zephyr was attractive, obviously. All the fair folk were. He was willowy, with long honey-blond hair that had been braided with forget-me-nots, and the signature fae design of vines curled down from his temple to his sharp jaw. His eyes were blue as the flowers in his hair.

But Alec only wanted to see his Steve. Steve who was solid and firm, who had callused hands and knobby knees. Steve with his goofy smile and the soft crinkles around his eyes. Steve who was not glamorous the way the Other Alec's warlock boyfriend was. Steve didn't wear jewelry or nail polish; he didn't bother with styling his hair other than making sure it didn't impede his sight.

_By the Angel, it's only been a few days and I feel like I've not seen him in forever._

Limbo without a guide would have been terrifying. All the swirling, uniform grayness, with occasional glimpses of shadowy figures walking around at different angles to himself. What was that artist with the crazy staircases and doors?

Escher. He must have witnessed Limbo somehow. That was how Alec felt as he walked on. The featureless void made it hard for him to know just how far he had traveled. And much as he resented Zephyr's flirting, at least Zephyr provided some color and distraction from the dull terror of Limbo. If he had been trapped here alone, he would probably lose his mind.

Demons or half-crazed spirits, drawn to the two travelers, attacked them, sometimes singly, sometimes in a group. Alec was thankful for the seraph blade the other Alec handed him, and Zephyr seemed to take great glee in carving chunks out of his enemies with twin blades, each one-and-a-half hands long. The fights kept him alert to the pull of the magical cords on his wrist, but he also lost track of time.

Finally, they came to a glowing square. Zephy motioned dramatically to it. “That's the Seeking Gate,” he said.

Alec could feel how much firmer the tugging on his wrist was. He took a deep breath and stepped into the square.

He tumbled out, right into Steve's arms.

“Alex?” Steve whispered, as if he was afraid.

Alec grinned. He grabbed his husband by his shirt dragged him in for a kiss.

He was home.

***

Catarina broke up the Seeking Gate into its components. She knew she owed the Queen something now; Zephyr had told her in no uncertain terms that the Fair Folk would come and collect on their favor within the month.

“I will accede to any _reasonable_ request,” said the High Warlock of Brooklyn, her dark skin rippling blue with magic. The slight emphasis was not lost on the seelie; he bowed, in the manner of the fae, and departed from the Institute.

Meanwhile, Alec Lightwood was being hugged by his sister and his parabatai, while his husband hadn't let go of him since the tall shadowhunter fell out of the portal.

Looking at how utterly devoted Underhill and Lightwood were to each other, she felt justified in her little fib to the other Alec.

She didn't know any warlock by the name of Magnus Bane, but she knew someone whose magical signature was a perfect match to the magic in the amber ring. He didn't go by the name the other Alec provided, because he wasn't the same man. He didn't dress up in perfectly tailored suits, he didn't crash weddings because he was in love with the groom, and he didn't wear makeup or style his hair.

The warlock Catarina knew called himself Marsudi, the Javanese for 'trying'. She asked him what he was trying for; he didn't answer her. He was a recluse in Indonesia, on an isolated island that Catarina ventured once because Ragnor mentioned something about a powerful warlock in hiding. He had a dozen stray cats living with him and no humans nearby; his shelter was a simple house with coconut leaf thatch for a roof. There were three rooms inside, and one was locked with binding spells on the door and a potent barrier set up around it.

He was also blind. Not in the way where his eyes didn't work.

In the way that he had no eyes at all. It was just flat, smooth skin.

Marsudi was incredibly powerful, for someone who had essentially hidden himself away from the rest of the world. The potion Catarina needed was supposed to take three months of brewing, with finicky steps in between; Marsudi completed the potion in two days. She asked if he would consider offering his services to the Downworld and he refused.

“My duty is here,” he said. “And my vigilance is my duty and my service.”

“Vigilance?” she asked.

He had smiled. “I know you've noticed the room. Whatever I hold in there has been worth centuries of my life, and centuries more; I paid dearly for it,” pointing to where his eyes would have been, “and I do not want to have paid in vain.”

Catarina glanced at the locked room. She could sense absolutely nothing from it, and for someone used to being able to detect auras of every living creature around her, it was unnerving. “Do other people know? About... about that? Because I could send some people to aid you.”

“Those who are pure of intent or are in distress are able to cross my barriers into my island, but only a select few ever get to see my face, and even fewer have a chance to converse with me.”

“I'm honored.”

Marsudi smiled. “You, Catarina Loss – you give of yourself, caring about others; you saw my magic and you thought of how I should benefit from it; you heard that I am watching over that room, and you ask if I need help. No, High Warlock, it is _I_ who am honored.” His smile turned mischievous. “As for Ragnor Fell, do ask him to stop revealing my secret. It isn't a secret if someone keeps talking about it. I may have to move house, and that is rather challenging.”

That had been fifty, sixty years ago, and Catarina hadn't had any reason to check up on Marsudi since. Yet, she remembered his contained intensity, like a typhoon caught in a silk pillowcase, and the _feel_ of his magic.

To describe a warlock's magical signature to a non-magical person was as easy as describing the scent of blue or the texture of a sunset. To Catarina, it was _golden-silk-imposing_ , with a hint of _blood-steel-death_. It reminded her of tigers and gladiators.

If she had taken Other Alec to the warlock he knew as Magnus Bane, and he realized the discrepancy... It would have devastated him for no good reason. Better to let the mortal think that this universe opted not to create that warlock. Because love – genuine love, the sort between soulmates – carried over, and there was no telling if Other Alec and Marsudi were soulmates in the other universe.

She knew now what – or more accurately, whom – Marsudi was guarding. As far as Catarina was concerned, Marsudi's duty was far too important for him to savor love in any form, however fleeting.

Asmodeus must _not_ be released.

***

“For the last time,” said Alec, swatting aside his sister's penlight which she was using to check on his pupils, “I'm fine. Now I need information on Magnus. Have you managed to locate him at all?”

Izzy slapped his cheek lightly. “How about you sit still and let me make sure you're perfectly fine? Because I can get Fremantle to do that weird rune-listening thing, or send for the Silent Brothers. You were literally being tortured to death just days ago, and then you were in a different dimension, and now you're back. I am being really restrained here because I'd have ordered a full spectrum analysis on every part of you.”

Folding his arms, Jace just leaned against the door and grinned. He hadn't been able to stop grinning since Alec returned. The very first thing Alec had asked just now was, “Who is my boyfriend?” and Jace said “Magnus Bane, you dumbass.” Alec had hugged him tightly enough to cut off circulation.

Underhill and Clary were there too, the former looking quietly relieved and the latter delighted. Already they had sent out messages to the different Downworld leaders. Raphael had to content himself with passing the demon corpse in his hotel to one of the junior shadowhunters.

Dot was there too, nursing a mug of lukewarm tea. “That smear of magic in Magnus' apartment belonged to Asmodeus. Asmodeus has Magnus. And no one in Brooklyn is strong enough to contain the King of Edom in a pentagram.”

“So we can't summon him here,” said Alec, now allowing his sister to check his breathing and his ribs.

“Not unless we want an apocalypse.”

Ignoring Clary's muttered _“Maybe we could unleash him in the White House”_ , Alec said, “But can you send someone over?”

“And give him two hostages instead of one?”

“No, I meant...” Alec leaned around Izzy, who was trying to find a vein so she could run some blood tests. “Like astral projection. Magnus had done it once, when I was in Daji's torture dungeon.”

Dot shook her head. “An astral projection within this realm, this mortal realm – that's easy. Crossing the realms? I don't know if your spirit self is robust enough to take that sort of damage.”

Alec exhaled and winced when the needle finally found what it was looking for. “I survived a copious amount of torture, and then I was ripped away from this _very universe_ so I wouldn't be with Magnus. Someone up there or down there thinks we don't belong together.” He held the warlock's gaze. “I am going to prove all of them wrong, you understand? I will find a way to get to him.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

Isabelle hid her exasperation behind her flawless face. Given that there was a demon in the morgue that she would rather be dissecting, part of her was rather annoyed that she had been sent here. She did understand why she was assigned this role, of course. She knew that her brothers would never be able to maintain the necessary facade, and Clary would have lost her temper at the slightest provocation. All those years having to deal with her parents' disapproval and hiding her affairs from her mom had however trained Izzy to be able to hide her real feelings perfectly from whomever she was trying to charm.

Her target at this moment was Lorenzo Rey, who was blatantly flirting with Isabelle and being an oleaginous git. No wonder Magnus always bitched about losing his seat to him; Rey was nowhere near as effortlessly elegant as Magnus, nor was he able to converse with the same sort of airy wittiness. Still, she had need of him to approve her request for both Catarina and Dorothea to cast a difficult spell for the shadowhunters.

“ _Percer le voile_ ,” Rey repeated, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin. Izzy supposed he thought the pose made him look Machiavellian. It just made him look constipated. “It will be rather taxing on the warlocks involved, and of course I will have to set some people to ensure that nothing bleeds through in either direction.”

“I'm sure you can easily persuade your people to assist,” said Isabelle sweetly. “I mean, if Asmodeus has truly abducted Magnus, I'm sure you don't want them to make any further bargains with demons, not if the King of Edom has Magnus in his clutches, and once we know for sure, I can keep Alec from charging into Edom and endangering all of us.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn't Mr Lightwood be more eager to charge in?”

“He just wants to have done something, really. All this uncertainty is throwing off his priorities.” Isabelle sighed delicately. “He may be Magnus' boyfriend, but he's also the head of the New York Shadowhunter Institute. The Law is the Law, and our law places the safety of this realm above all other considerations.”

Rey unfolded from his chair and walked to the bar. “Be that as it may, I will still have to charge the Institute a fair sum. This _is_ dangerous work.”

“I wouldn't know, of course,” Izzy demurred, casting her gaze down to the Turkish carpet. “You are the High Warlock. I trust your impartial judgment.”

“You,” said Rey, “are much nicer to converse with than your brother. Now, let me consult my books to see how many warlocks I can spare to protect this world during your brother's walk on the astral plane, and we will send fire messages together to them.”

He sauntered off, bringing with him his overwhelming cologne, and Izzy rolled her eyes. Then she scanned the new High Warlock's office. It was opulent, like Magnus' place, and yet somehow tacky. Magnus' loft felt like an eclectic living space, with the warlock's personal touches everywhere; Lorenzo Rey's mansion was just showy and demanded that people be impressed.

She stood up and wandered around the room, squinting at a few “Tang dynasty tricolor ceramic horses”, something she knew only because Lorenzo pointed them out with much pompousness. Then she noticed something familiar in an alcove set just outside the office. It was a wavy steel keris, and there were intricate motifs all along the flat of the blade. Its handle was made of ivory and there were demonic faces carved into it.

“I've seen this before,” she murmured to herself. “Where did I-”

She heard Rey returning and quickly darted to the other side of the room to admire a small jade-colored teapot with a silver filigreed handle. Why she did that she could not explain, but she didn't want Rey to see her studying the keris.

“Oh, are you interested in ceramics too?” Rey asked.

Izzy smiled and ducked her head abashedly. “I know very little about them. Perhaps you can educate me on them the next time I visit. You seem to have a most fascinating collection.”

Rey preened. “I have been a meticulous curator of my collection. Certainly, when things are a little more settled, I will be more than pleased to teach you all the intricacies of ceramics.”

***

“When we get Magnus back, we will find a way to reinstate him as High Warlock,” Izzy declared as she stalked into Alec's bedroom and handed two envelopes to Catarine and Dorothea.

The two warlocks thanked her absently. They were comparing notes and barely looked up, but Clary paused in her drawing of the sigils around Alec's bed. “What happened?”

Izzy flopped into the uncomfortable chair in the corner. “Lorenzo Rey is a smarmy bastard and he should be shot.”

Catarina chuckled. “Not arguing with you there.”

Clary sat back on her heels and rotated her wrists. “He can't be that bad.”

“He tried to hold my hand while I was sending a fire message.”

“Oh. Ew.”

Dot glanced up. “Do you speak Spanish at all?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?” Izzy swept her hair back into a bun at the nape of her neck and stuck her stele through it.

“Don't speak Spanish when he's around,” Dot warned. Then, to Clary, she said, “How's it going?”

Clary pointed to the top of Alec's bed. “There's only that little bit to go, then he'd be warded against outside influences while he goes under.”

“I still think I should go with him and not Jace,” said Cat. She rubbed her palms together and blue sparks fizzed out.

“You are more powerful than I am, and one warlock isn't strong enough to keep the anchoring spell going,” said Dot. “Look, Clary trusts Jace to keep Alec from doing anything to jeopardize Magnus' safety.”

“I am dating him, so my judgment is biased, just FYI,” said Clary, putting the finishing touches on the wall with colored chalk.

At that moment, the door swung open and the two parabatai walked in. Jace was deep in a heated argument with Alec. “I'm just saying, you should be the secondary instead of the primary on this.”

Izzy rolled her eyes and stood up. “I have a demon corpse down in the morgue to check out, so unless I'm needed here?”

“No, thank you Izzy.”

“Wait, I just remembered something.” Izzy turned on her heel and pointed to Jace. “That morning when you took Other Alec to the loft, did you see a keris? Its handle was ivory and there were faces of monsters or demons carved on it.”

Jace frowned and shook his head. “I can't recall, sorry.”

“I know that keris. It was Magnus' mom's. Why are you asking about it?” Alec asked, immediately concerned.

“I saw it, or a keris that is very similar to it, over in Lorenzo Rey's home,” said Izzy. “But I can't remember the exact designs on Magnus' so I was just curious.”

“Maybe he noticed Magnus having one and wanted to have one too,” Jace suggested.

Cat agreed. “Lorenzo is the envious sort.”

Playing with the amber ring on his finger, Alec narrowed his eyes at Izzy. The rational side of him thought Jace's and Cat's explanation made sense. But he also knew instinct and intuition were powerful weapons. “Izzy, what was your first thought?”

Izzy bit her upper lip and then squared her shoulders. “That it is Magnus' keris.”

“Here's my key,” said Alec, lowering his voice, although he trusted everyone currently in his bedroom. “Go to the loft and make sure.”

“I'll go with you,” said Clary, dusting off her hands and setting the chalks someplace safe.

Izzy stared at her big brother for another long moment, before nodding. “I will. You and Jace be careful.”

“When are we not?” Jace asked, already shedding his jacket and kicking off his shoes to lie on the bed.

Both young women regarded him with a deadpan expression. Clary was the first to shake her head and laugh. “Alec has sense. You? Not so much.” Then the redhead linked her arm with Isabelle's and they left.

Alec chuckled. “Come on, scoot your fat butt over.”

“You've wanted to have my fat butt in your bed for ages,” Jace teased.

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Dot chided. “Once you're ready, Cat and I will guide you both under. Then, Alec, you will have to focus on Magnus. Picture him in as much detail as you can. Jace, you concentrate on your parabatai. Hopefully Magnus isn't in Edom, but if he is, don't contact him unless you are sure he's alone.”

Cat picked up where Dot left off. “If and when you sense any danger, or if you feel like Asmodeus has noticed you, immediately think of this room, this bed, and your own bodies. Don't hesitate at all. Don't give Asmodeus a chance to sneak into your heads – and he will, make no mistake about that – because he can manipulate people through their dreams once he's gained a foothold.”

***

Jace patted down his astral form. “Huh. I didn't think we'd have astral clothes – whoops!”

“Think some clothes on, Jace,” Alec said, rolling his eyes. He had grown used to seeing Jace naked, although when he was still nursing his crush, it had been difficult not to stare.

Dot covered her eyes with her hands but Catarina was watching them, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Jace covered his crotch and glared at Cat.

“What? I'm a nurse, I see naked people all the time,” she drawled.

Jace stared at his supine body and thought about his outfit. In a blink, he was dressed again. He hovered over his body and squinted.

“I didn't know my nose was so weird,” he complained.

“I didn't see Magnus when he visited me as an astral projection,” Alec said to Catarina. “Will he see us when we find him?”

“Demons trade in intangibles, so demons can see you. Most beings with demon blood will detect an astral presence but not all can see them. Generally speaking, the more powerful a warlock, the more clearly they can see an astral form.”

“So you're saying that Asmodeus is _definitely_ able to see us,” Jace said slowly, “and Magnus probably will be able to see us.”

Cat shrugged. “I never said this was going to be easy or safe.”

Jace breathed out. Or at least he thought he was breathing. It was strange, not being to touch anything other than himself and – he poked his parabatai's arm – Alec.

“Now focus on the pentagram at the head of your bed,” Dot instructed, eyes still closed, while a red stream of magic flowed from her and Cat's hands to the symbol.

Jace stared at it. The pentagram soon began to glow red and gold. He squinted when it grew too bright. “How do we know it's working?”

The light faded.

“It worked,” said Alec.

They were at the base of a steep, barren slope that led all the way up to what appeared to be a ruined castle. Thick clouds roiled overhead in an ominous red sky; distant thunder echoed like a drum roll.

Jace turned around, taking it all in. “So this is Edom. Charming place.”

Alec wasn't paying attention to him. “Jace, I'm gonna go up alone.”

“What?” Jace grabbed the taller man and forced him to turn around. “Alec, that's insane. I'm here for a reason.”

“And if I am caught by Asmodeus while I'm up there, you are the only one who can get back home to tell them about it,” Alec hissed. “I am thinking clearly. I want – I must go into that place, and look for Magnus, but if his father is anywhere near him, and I think he isn't going to leave his son alone, I am very possibly going to be caught.”

“That's even less reason for me to let you go up there alone.” Jace squeezed Alec's elbow. “We go in together, we leave, together.”

Alec rolled his eyes and covered his mouth, as if preventing himself from saying something to his parabatai. Eventually, he relented. “Come on.”

They took the first step. Their feet sank through the path. Jace chuckled. “We're ghosts now!”

“How do we move around then?”

“We thought our way here, so maybe we just need to think?” Jace squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was halfway up the slope. “I'm right!”

The ascent was rapid. All they had to do was imagine themselves at the top, and they were there in a blink. If Jace could feel his pulse at that moment, he would have felt it ratchet up. The castle loomed over them, like a dying leviathan. They crept through one of the windows on the upper floors and floated into a room with faded curtains and half-scorched furniture. There was no sign of anyone ever inhabiting the place. Alec led the way, and Jace followed, on high alert for any presence. He kept a hand on the back of Alec's elbow as well. In the event of detection, Jace was prepared to yank Alec back with him to safety.

They drifted down the stairs. Nearly everything was blackened by fire or eroded by sand. They could hear the howling wind tear through the castle, and pages from damaged books fluttered about, as if they were pigeons scattering before the two intruders.

“Where is he?” Alec muttered.

Jace didn't answer.

Then they found a flight of steps in the back of the castle leading downwards, apparently into the hill itself.

“I don't like the look of that,” said Jace.

“Neither do I,” Alec admitted, before he started descending the steps.

On the astral plane, the darkness seemed less oppressive. Jace could even make out striations in the rock walls despite there being no light at all to guide them.

And then they emerged into a cavernous space lit with what seemed like thousands of candles. An ornate throne made of black rock was at the opposite end of the entrance. Even from this distance, Jace could tell that the throne was covered with detail. He scanned the space around them and saw that what he had thought were candle holders were all skulls embedded into the rock. Some appeared to be human skulls. Most were not.

Undeterred, Alec led the way into the throne room. The floor was similarly black, with gold and crimson veining, and neither of the shadowhunters had reflections in its polished surface. They went through one of the arched doorways. Jace could feel a sense of dread building in his gut; he did not like that they had ventured this deeply into the bowels of Asmodeus' stronghold, and while the lack of demons kept them from being discovered, he also found it extremely suspicious.

But he knew his parabatai. Alec would not leave until he knew for sure that Magnus was safe. Since the spell sent them here, then here was where Magnus was.

Then they heard laughter.

“That's Magnus,” Alec said, and took off in a run, forgetting that they were literally spirits who did not need to run at all. Jace followed him, also running, but at a speed he had never thought possible. Alec's long legs usually gave him a headstart on any race they ran.

The two young men stopped outside another locked door. Inside, they heard laughter, one familiar, and the other a stranger's voice. Their conversation was muted, but they seemed in good spirits. Then Jace heard footsteps. He grabbed Alec and jerked his head at another room, further down the hallway, and they found themselves outside its entrance. Jace poked his head into that room through the door, saw that it was empty, and dragged Alec inside.

They heard the footsteps pass by outside. Jace made out a quiet metallic tap after every other step, as if the person was using a walking stick. They waited for a long while, Jace counting to two hundred in his head, and then edging his head out through the door again.

“Safe. Come on,” he said to Alec, who returned to the room earlier.

They looked at each other, and then passed through the door.

Inside was a spacious room with startlingly modern furnishings, all steel and glass and clean lines, along with five kittens gamboling about on a thick rug.

But more importantly, Magnus was lying prone on the rug, playing with the kittens with a toy mouse. His back was to them, but there was no hiding that delighted laugh nor the effortlessly stylish deep blue tunic and be-ringed hands waving through the air, levitating the toy.

Alec inhaled sharply, although it made no sound, and then whispered, “Magnus?”

The warlock leaped to his feet and swiveled about almost instantly. His eyes were wide, and appeared even wider with his makeup, and a spell hovered in his left hand. The toy mouse he had been floating for the kittens fell to the floor.

“Magnus,” Alec repeated. He was there in front of his boyfriend immediately, while Jace remained at the door. “Magnus, can you hear me? Can you see me?”

“Of course I can see you,” said Magnus. Then he fired the spell at Alec, sending him to the floor. His entire astral form sparked and shivered, like he was made of static. “Who the hell are you and why do you know my name?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had some difficulty working out the chapter and hence have been late with the update. Hope this one is to your liking.


	16. Chapter 16

“Why the _fuck_ did you drag me back?” Alec bellowed across the bedroom. Catarina was doing her best to hold him back, but it was difficult.

“You think I'm gonna leave you there to be caught and killed by Asmodeus?” Jace shot back. He pushed Dot aside roughly and was pulled back out of Alec's reach. “It was obvious there was something wrong with Magnus! Leaving was the right thing to do!”

Alec sneered, “As if you ever cared about doing the right thing! Probably because it isn't Clary!”

“Don't you fucking bring her into this, Alec, I'm warning you-”

“I could have gotten through to him!”

“He blasted you with a spell that nearly killed you!”

“ _BUT HE DIDN'T!”_

Shoving past Dorothea, Jace stalked forward and grabbed Alec by his collar. _“He_ – _nearly_ – _killed –_ _you_. I am not apologizing for saving my goddamn parabatai's life.”

Alec knocked the other shadowhunter's hands away. “If Magnus wanted me dead, he'd have killed me on the first shot. There's still part of him in there that remembers me. But we wouldn't know, would we, since you dragged both of us back here before I can find out!”

Catarina shaped a globe of magic in her hands, pushed it between the two and let it expand, forcing them apart. “Enough, both of you. Jace did the right thing.”

“You-”

“You were there for information. You have it now. Magnus is in Edom, and he doesn't remember you.” Catarina's ruthless statements made an ugly feeling unfurl in Alec's chest, but he held his tongue. “We have to consider carefully what to do next. Alec, you must calm down. Don't even _think_ about going to Edom, do you understand me? If you alert Asmodeus, we would jeopardize any chance we have of saving Magnus.”

Alec bit the inside of his cheek before he could scream at the warlock as well. He could taste blood in his mouth. “Get out,” he said. “All of you. Get out of my room.”

“Alec, please,” Jace said gently, stance softening.

“I said, _get out._ ” He flung the door open and glowered at all of them until they left. Then he slammed the door shut and leaned his forehead against it, feeling as if he would never breathe without agony ever again.

***

“I swear by all the levels of Hell, Amon is the most slippery son of a jackal this side of Edom,” Asmodeus remarked as he walked into Magnus' room.

The warlock was nestled in the middle of his bed, busy tickling Jupiter, the largest of the five kittens, and looking quite absorbed in the task. He glanced up at his father and smiled at him, raising an eyebrow as he did so. “What did he do now?”

“He tried to bargain for my original signed copy of Milton in exchange for the pelt of a selkie queen,” said Asmodeus, climbing onto the bed to settle next to Magnus. “If I wanted a malodorous selkie pelt, I'd have skinned one myself.”

Magnus chuckled and leaned back against the lean warmth of his father, Jupiter crying to be let down to play with his brothers. “Or you could send me to do it.”

“Mm, I could,” murmured the demon king. He trailed the tip of a finger along Magnus' jaw and then wrapped his hand over his son's throat. “You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” Magnus answered, eyes falling closed.

“Good boy.” Asmodeus “Did anything strange happen while I was away?”

“Can't fool you, huh.” The warlock relaxed into his father's hold. “There was an incursion. Just a couple of gremlins, nothing to worry about.” He nuzzled against Asmodeus' cheek. “I incinerated them, like you told me to.”

“That's my brilliant boy.” The demon king stood up and retrieved his cane. Magnus flopped back onto the pillows. Asmodeus said, “I have battle plans to draw up. I'll come by when it's time for dinner.”

Humming, Magnus asked, “Are you sure you don't want me to help with that?”

“I don't want our allies to know you're here. You're my secret weapon, my darling child,” said the demon, and then he bent down to kiss Magnus on the forehead. “Study up on the _Art of War_ , Magnus. And leave the kittens to their nap.”

“But they're so cute!”

“I promise you'll get a reward later if you behave yourself.”

The warlock pretended to pout at Asmodeus, who chuckled and kissed Magnus on the lips.

“Be a good boy, _kekasih_ ,” Asmodeus whispered, before he exited.

Once the King of Edom had gone, Magnus sat up and summoned _Sun Tzu's Art of War_ to the bed. This was a translation, with lots of annotations, some by his father even, but Magnus' attention kept wandering to the young man whose astral form he had nearly obliterated.

Dark hair, light eyes, tall, with the sort of muscular-but-not-bulky build that Magnus adored... And those lips when they shaped the warlock's name. Magnus was oddly relieved that the blond had grabbed that dark-haired young man and got him out of there. He truly didn't know what he might have done to the two astral forms. Both had runes on their skin, so they were shadowhunters.

Were the two mortals also lovers? A sour feeling flooded his mouth and he could feel his jaw and shoulders clenching in rejection of the concept.

No. They couldn't have been. The dark-haired beauty had come to Magnus instantly, everything in his expression open and soft and delighted, almost relieved, like he couldn't believe he was looking at Magnus, the Prince of Cats, Asmodeus' secret weapon.

Edom's Bane.

How was it possible that a shadowhunter would be so unafraid of him? Magnus would understand if they had come to spy on him and his father, and to kill either of them if necessary to prevent the full-scale war Asmodeus was preparing to launch against Lilith. Now that the Queen of Edom was injured, this was the perfect time for a takeover. Yet the young man had come to him without fear.

And why hadn't Magnus told his father? When Asmodeus asked, it would have been the easiest thing to tell him the truth. Yet, even as he spoke, a strong desire to protect that boy came over him and altered his words.

No, he didn't want to harm the shadowhunter. The second one, the blond, he didn't care for, except that he had been with the first tall young man who clearly thought Magnus would be glad to see them. When Magnus thought of him, a glimmer of fondness fluttered beneath his ribcage, and an unfamiliar happiness crept through his veins. That beautiful young man was important.

A headache was brewing at the back of his head. It would be impossible to focus. With a sigh, Magnus crafted a little servitor to read to him, except when the servitor began reciting from the page, it was with the voice of the dark-haired young shadowhunter.

“What in the world...” Magnus flicked his fingers, erasing the first and calling up a second servitor. It also spoke with that young man's voice. A third one did so as well. Baffled, the warlock sat up in bed, his pulse starting to race. “Who was that man?”

***

After going to Magnus' loft, Clary accompanied Izzy back to the Institute and followed her down to the morgue. Neither of them had talked on the way back, because out in the open, there was a chance that they would be overheard by unfriendly ears.

Once they were in the morgue, with only a dead demon on a slab for company, Clary found herself angrier than she had been when she saw the missing keris. “He's a thief.”

“He's also the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” said Izzy, pulling on nitrile gloves and a mask, then tossing Clary a set. She pulled on a visor and turned on a wooden device with runes engraved on it that began humming. “Come on, I wanna cut something open right now, and Lorenzo Rey isn't here for me to practice on him.”

“How could he have snuck into Magnus' home? I thought Magnus has wards against intruders? He was making a huge deal out of wanting to reinstate them after Jace walked in on him and Alec one too many times.” The redhead wrinkled her nose as Izzy wheeled the tools over and uncovered the corpse. “Also why isn't this in ashes? I thought demons dissipate when killed.”

“They do, if killed by a seraph blade,” said Izzy. Her tone was crisp and dispassionate. Spinning a scalpel exertly in her right hand, she gestured to the demon's elongated neck. Necks were not suppose to be mangled to that extent, which was why the demon was dead. “This was killed by vampires, so they basically crushed its windpipe here, and possibly broke its spine.”

“So why did Raphael call us to take it? It's a dead demon, he could've dealt with it.”

“Because...” Izzy sliced down the middle of the demon's abdomen, wincing as a putrid smell expelled into the air. The wooden device beeped and a golden light flashed through the air. Izzy made a number of incisions, removing slime-covered internal organs and plopping them into various trays, before she chose to focus on what appeared to be a stomach. Vile juices spilled onto the tray and Clary gagged. Izzy reached into the cavity with a pair of tongs and fished out something that turned out to be a roll of paper with charred edges. “Raphael said he saw it intercept a fire message, and that is supposed to be impossible.”

Clary peered over Izzy's arm to read its message. “Who is Tsering Chime?”

“Well, we'll have to find out. Get me an evidence bag.” Once Clary passed her the plastic bag and she had slid the message in, slime and all, Izzy added, “I hope Tsering Chime is on the database though.”

“He or she has to be a warlock, if they are using a fire message.” Clary poked at the insides of the demon with the tongs her friend had set aside. Izzy stared at her, mildly grossed out by her enthusiastic prodding. “Though why they didn't use a phone I wouldn't understand.”

In the middle of adjusting her visor, Izzy paused. “What did you say?”

“I said, I don't understand why they didn't use a phone?” The redheaded young woman raised her brows at her friend. “Why?”

“They didn't use a phone,” Izzy repeated to herself, trying to recapture the suspicion that had flitted over her mind when Clary made her innocuous remark. Then an icy chill spread from her spine through her entire body. “They didn't use a phone because they didn't have a phone. Clary, they are communicating by fire message because they didn't have a phone, and there was no line of communication otherwise. And this message was eaten by a demon _because fire messages can't travel across realms_.”

Clary blinked owlishly at the brunette, before light slowly dawned on her. “This Tsering Chime was communicating with someone in the Faerie or to... oh my god. The demon. The message was meant for someone in Edom.”

***

Underhill, Jace and the two warlocks listened to Clary and Izzy's rapid elaboration of their theory, the retrieved fire message in the middle of the table of Alec's office. Alec himself was in his chair, but he didn't appear to be listening to anything in particular. Jace picked up the reinforced plastic evidence bag and frowned at the writing on it.

“ _Thank you for the gift. Lightwood returned. Operation Felis may be jeopardized. Be warned. Respectfully, Tsering Chime.”_ Jace's mismatched eyes flicked up to Isabelle. “When did Raphael call this in?”

“About thirty minutes before Alec's return,” said Underhill. “I took the call. Luke Garroway called just five mnutes ago. He said the two civilian deaths were due to mundane causes and that we would not have to be involved.”

“Oh, right, I was supposed to have got the files from him.”

“Jace,” Izzy scolded.

The blond shrugged. “The autopsy hadn't been done when I called earlier, and then Alec got back and it's been really hectic since.”

“Does my team still have to go into the tunnels?” Underhill asked.

Izzy bit her lower lip. If there were more demons helping to convey messages between here and Edom, she could not risk them being burned to ashes by seraphic weapons. “Could you help me coordinate with Raphael and Luke, get the vampires and werewolves to help? Because if this is what I think it means, then a warlock is actively conspiring with a Prince of Hell.”

Underhill nodded and excused himself.

Catarina slid the message across the table to skim through it. “There is no warlock I know by the name of Tsering Chime.”

“What could Operation Felis refer to?” Clary asked.

“It's referring to Magnus,” said Alec.

The group turned their attention to him. He had been completely detached from their discussion so they had almost forgotten his presence.

Clary said gently, “Alec, I know you're missing Magnus, but this may not be related to him-”

Alec slammed his palm on the table, making everyone jump. “Just because I am reeling from what happened in Edom doesn't mean I have completely lost all capacity for logic. Magnus used to hold the title the Prince of Cats, until he left his father and banished him to Edom. Asmodeus has altered or erased his memory about me, about us, so it's fair to say that the King of Edom wanted to ensure Magnus stayed with him for some reason. That demon swallowed a fire message, and the only way that message can be retrieved would be to disembowel it. How many beings in Edom can send a demon across realms easily, and be willing to cut open a demon for the contents of its belly?”

The leader of the New York Institute glared at all of them.

“The one person in New York who benefits the most from Magnus being gone forever is Lorenzo Rey,” he went on, spitting out the name of the current High Warlock like a curse. “He was the one who opened a path for Asmodeus to get here, in order to influence and remove Magnus. I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't made a deal with Asmodeus once he knew the kind of power Magnus truly held. So no, there may not be a 'Tsering Chime', but there is a Lorenzo Rey, and I bet anything that it was he who wrote that message.”

“Magnus blotted out the sun and summoned hundreds of demons to obey him,” Dot said. “Lorenzo would have been intimidated by that display.”

“Any warlock would have been terrified by it,” Cat added quietly.

Cocking his head, Alec raised an eyebrow. “So. Since I am not allowed to try to rescue Magnus by charging directly into Edom, shall we perhaps pay Mr Rey a visit?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to Harry Shum Jr and Shelby Rabara! They're gonna be such fun parents :D
> 
> In the meantime, Asmodeus is a manipulative bastard of a father :))


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check end notes for trigger warnings

Life was good when you were a High Warlock. People _respected_ you. They paid to meet you, and they listened, because if they didn't, they knew they would never get your help again. Lorenzo Rey loved every second of being High Warlock of Brooklyn.

He should have ousted Magnus Bane years ago. That fey, licentious warlock helped _everyone_ , regardless of their social standing, and sometimes concocted sham payments like 'a lock of golden hair' or 'the best hug from a ten-year-old werewolf child'. It cheapened the title, really. The only area Lorenzo had any respect for Bane was his stance against the Shadowhunters, but of course the idiot had to start _dating_ one, and not just any simpleminded nephilim. He had to date a Lightwood.

Although Lorenzo did hold a grudging respect for Alec Lightwood. The young man had, after all, cut ties with Bane when Valentine was carving a path of horror and death across the city, and by all accounts Bane was the lapdog on the Lightwood leash.

The past week had been insane, however. Alec Lightwood being abducted and Bane overreacting to the point of _summoning_ and _commanding_ demons, out in the open where mundanes had been present... Lorenzo was more certain than ever that he had been right to woo the warlock community into unseating Magnus Bane.

And now Bane was forever out of his hair. It was truly Lorenzo's time.

His sensors told him that a small group of people were at the door. Lorenzo rolled his eyes and walked downstairs. He really should have a few junior warlocks around to help him with menial tasks, like opening doors.

“Mr Lightwood, how pleasant to see you,” said Lorenzo.

“Good afternoon, Lorenzo.”

Lightwood's deliberate lack of a title was not lost on Lorenzo. Still, he kept his cool. “Catarina, Dorothea. I see your attempt to cast _percer le voile_ was successful, given neither of you have been burned to ashes by the magical recoil. Congratulations.”

Alec turned and glared at both women. “Burned to ashes?” he said pointedly.

“We're both older than you, Alec, we can make our own choices,” said Catarina. She smiled at Lorenzo. “May we come in? I thought you'd like a detailed report from us, since so few warlocks have ever attempted to send an astral form into Edom.”

Lorenzo was not pleased about having visitors come by unannounced – another bad habit encouraged by Bane, no doubt – but he let them in. There was such a thing as good manners, after all.

Once inside, he invited them to his sitting room. “May I offer you three some drinks?”

“No, thank you,” said the Lightwood boy. He took the single chair that afforded him a view of the entire room, as well as sightlines out the window. Lorenzo liked that seat the most but it would be churlish to chase Alec out of it.

Catarina and Dorothea sat together. The latter clasped her hands in her lap, and Catarina gave her report. “We warded the bed, as you advised, and Dot helped Alec and Jace to manifest on the astral plane.”

“Alec and Jace? You sent both Mr Lightwood and Mr Herondale into Edom?”

“I thought it would be safer to have an emotional anchor in case of accidents,” Dorothea intervened smoothly. With a glance at both Alec and Catarina, the younger warlock went on. “The passage to Edom was successful, but something occurred in Edom that caused the return journey to be a little rough. We suspect there was interference as well. Thankfully, Jace was singularly focused on returning to his body, so they did get back without hurt.”

Lorenzo made sure he was utterly relaxed. “That is good to hear. I'm glad the spell went off without a hitch. Is that all? Because you could have told me all of that in a phone call.”

“You don't seem all that curious about what happened in Edom,” Alec said. He was watching Lorenzo, his gaze cold as an exposed blade.

The High Warlock was four centuries old, but he could not suppress the primal fear that clawed at the base of his skull. It was easy to forget that nearly all Shadowhunters had literally been bred for war when they were mortals and most of them were young. “Should I be concerned?”

“You should.” Alec Lightwood unfolded from the seat, drawing himself to his full height. He didn't even have to try to intimidate – he loomed, naturally, especially when he squared his shoulders and looked down along his nose. “Magnus was there.”

“That's... That's not a surprise, is it?” Lorenzo managed a smile. “The King of Edom is his father.”

Alec strode over to Lorenzo. “What deal did you cut with Asmodeus, Rey? And don't insult me with a lie. Because I can _and will_ bring the wrath of the Clave down on you for aligning yourself with a Prince of Hell.”

Lorenzo raised his chin. His voice shook, despite his best effort, but he still stared the Lightwood boy in the eye. “Where is your proof?”

“Here.”

Lorenzo wheeled around to see Isabelle Lightwood coming down the stairs, playing with a very familiar keris in her hand. She smirked at his flabbergasted expression. “I used to break in and out of the Institute to go clubbing. Your mansion really isn't too hard, even with the warlock wards.”

“That's mine,” Lorenzo sputtered, and threw out a hand to use a retrieval spell.

It was intercepted by Dot, who dispersed the spell easily.

“Izzy, may I take a look at it?” said Catarina.

“Of course.” Isabelle practically sashayed over to Cat, who studied it for a minute and nodded. “That _does_ belong to Magnus.”

Dot's smile turned vicious. “So our High Warlock is a traitor and a thief. I wonder what the other warlocks would say.”

Lorenzo's jaw clenched. He really shouldn't have taken it, but it had been too tempting.

Behind him, Alec Lightwood said, “So, Mr Rey. This would be a great time for you to come clean.”

***

Magnus rolled away from his father's side and climbed out of bed to get a drink. The kittens were still snoozing in their basket, looking ridiculously fluffy and cute. He beamed down at them. Resisting the urge to pet them, he forced himself to get to the bar to mix himself a dirty martini. The drink was not his favorite – at such late hours, he preferred water. But he felt... defiled, somehow. A dirty martini would wash the taste of defilement out of his mouth.

Earlier, when he was with Asmodeus, there was a sense of familiarity overlaid with revulsion in every one of his father's touches. It was an unexpected, unwelcome sensation. Where he would usually have sighed with pleasure, he instead bit on the tip of his tongue; where he would normally have melted against Asmodeus, he tensed up and had to force himself to relax.

 _Who was that nephilim boy?_ Magnus could not get him out of his head. The genuine relief and – joy? Was that joy? - when he saw Magnus, and then, when Magnus had fired that spell at him, the shock in his dark eyes.

There was a nagging feeling in Magnus that he knew the boy, but for his life he couldn't remember. And if the boy was a shadowhunter, then he was far too young for Magnus to have met in person. After the disaster that was Peru the second time round, he'd decided to return to Edom, and that had been half a century ago.

Asmodeus didn't like Magnus leaving Edom, and Magnus had been too heartsick with the mortal world to return to it anyway; his father loved him and cherished him, so the warlock stayed in the underground home Asmodeus made, and studied up on demonic magic. Under the shelter of the King of Edom, Magnus had not needed to worry about anything. What the prince wanted, the prince received.

But at this moment, he had a strong desire to stroll down the streets of Brooklyn, to admire the lines of the Brooklyn Bridge, and to sit in Central Park with a coffee.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Asmodeus walked towards his son, his cane tapping on the tiles.

Magnus then realized how deep in thought he must have been if he hadn't heard his father's approach. He smiled pensively at Asmodeus and reached out a hand to him. “Just thinking how much the human world must have changed by now.”

Asmodeus took his son's hand and drew him close. “Change is the only constant, darling son. But human lives are ephemeral and unimportant; you and I, we will outlast them.”

Magnus shut his eyes and burrowed his face into his father's neck. It was safe here, he knew; his father protected him against all hurt. He had even forgiven his son for the banishment in the first place. “When will we strike against Lilith?”

“In a few more hours,” said Asmodeus, pressing a soft kiss to the warlock's temple. “Are you ready, my beautiful boy? Once we have sole dominion of Edom, your name will be on everyone's lips; they will worship you.”

Magnus didn't want that. He didn't tell his father that, however. The King of Edom was adamant that his son rule beside him, instead of Lilith, and after Lilith tried to attack Magnus, Asmodeus refused to be swayed.

Already the King of Edom had gathered to him and Magnus seventy-two legions, and his allies had sworn their allegiance in blood. Of course, some of them would wiggle out of it, but they would stand by their vows for now. The three strongest allies were Amon, Grand Marquis, with his forty legions; Grand Duke Haborym was lending his twenty-six; Flauros, a Great Duke of Hell, brought half of his thirty-six.

Still, while many demons of rank claimed to be opting out of the power struggle, Asmodeus had no certainty on which were standing with Lilith. The Mother of Demons would have summoned her children to her, though most were lesser demons, and some of Asmodeus' foes would love to see him brought low.

On the battlefield, Magnus was possibly the only entity who would not be fully demon, and over the past few days, even as he played with the kittens, he had come up with dozens of spells that would rip apart demonic magic.

As he followed Asmodeus back to the room, he considered briefly what might happen if he stole away to the mortal plane, just to see who that gorgeous young man was. He didn't want a war, even if it would mean a reduction in the number of demons. His father would be furious though. Asmodeus in a rage was terrifying; he was wrath incarnate.

As the King of Edom settled in bed and Magnus curled up beside him, the warlock wondered if he would see that shadowhunter again. It would be a shame if the boy were to perish before Magnus even found out his name.

***

If Jace was surprised to see Alec back so soon after visiting Lorenzo Rey, he didn't say a word about it. Instead, he jerked his head in the direction of the sparring room.

Alec followed his parabatai.

“Did he try to weasel out of it?” Jace asked, tossing an iron-tipped _bo_ staff at Alec.

Alec caught the staff and twirled it, getting the balance of the weapon. “He said Asmodeus threatened the warlock community if he didn't help, which is definitely a pile of horse excrement.”

They went through the first few moves together as warm-up.

Jace lunged and then turned it into a high kick, using the staff as added balance. “What did he do?”

“Apparently, after Magnus' stunt with summoning demons and obscuring the sun,” said Alec, stepping around to face Jace, “Rey got frightened that the rest of the warlocks would remember how powerful Magnus was.”

“Those aren't Rey's words,” Jace teased.

Alec rolled his eyes. “He was going on and on about how dangerous Magnus was and how it was better for Magnus to be out of the picture. Izzy had to hold me back before I decked the moron.”

They swung and dodged and parried, a dance that both young men had mastered for ages. Jace, as expected, was faster and stronger, but Alec had an archer's eye and could always pinpoint the least defended area, so they were well-matched.

Jace whirled on the ball of his left foot and slashed the staff diagonally down, nearly clipping Alec's knee. Alec retaliated with a straight jab of the staff that almost caught Jace in the nose.

“So what do we do?” Jace asked. “Because I am very sure you don't want Magnus to stay there.”

“Cat wants to blackmail Lorenzo into summoning Asmodeus, while you and I go to Edom for real with Dot's help,” said Alec. “Izzy is coming with us too.”

“Izzy? Really?”

Alec's staff smacked into Jace's left arm. “Pay attention to the fight. Yeah, I could not dissuade her. You wanna try?”

Jace made a face. “Like anyone has ever succeeded in stopping her from doing something stupid.”

“You and I are doing something stupid too,” said Alec.

The blond cracked the staff into Alec's thigh and made him stagger. “No, you're doing the stupid thing. I'm following you so you don't get killed. And Izzy's there to make sure we don't fight each other.”

Alec rubbed the heel of his hand on his left thigh to take away the sting of the blow. “I'm going to ask Underhill to manage the Institute while we're gone.”

“What about Clary?” Jace asked. “She'd want to help, too.”

“I want her to share her new runes to the other Institutes, and to investigate the demon front. If Lorenzo could send messages via demon insides, who's to say that correspondence has stopped?” Alec sighed. “She won't screw it up, will she?”

“Of course she won't.”

They exchanged a few more blows, before Jace asked, “When are we doing this?”

“In another three hours,” said Alec. He smashed the staff into the floor, sweeping past Jace's cheek and chest just before that. “And you need to brush up on your defense, parabatai. I could have caved your head in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> multiple references to an incestuous relationship between Asmodeus and Magnus
> 
> Edit: the relationship imo has always been incestuous once Magnus matured. In this instance, however, Magnus has been deceived into having sex with Asmodeus, in that Magnus' memories have been changed so that he thinks he returned to Edom and to his father. He consented to sex in that he said yes, but this is still abusive, and certainly counts as sexual assault because he was deceived into sleeping with his father.


	18. Chapter 18

Sometimes, Steve Underhill wondered if he should have gone to one of the less prestigious Institutes. There would be less drama. He shuffled the papers and files in his hands and stacked them together again, tapping the edges against the desk so they would be in a neat pile. “I don't think it's a good idea for you, Isabelle, and Jace to all go to Edom.”

Alec folded his arms. “We have to get Magnus back.”

Steve stood up from his chair and leaned forward, resting his palms on the desk. “He doesn't remember you, Alec. And are you really going to risk your parabatai and your sister on such a journey?”

“I am not leaving Magnus with Asmodeus!” Alec shouted. “You have no idea what Magnus has been through with his father. I can't even imagine what Asmodeus is doing to him right now!”

“Alec Lightwood!” Steve punched the table once. It shocked the younger shadowhunter out of his rant. “I want Magnus Bane back safely too, but you cannot go into Edom.”

“Fine. Izzy will stay. She's proven herself a good second-in-charge while I was kidnapped.”

“You misunderstand me,” Steve said. He took a deep, steadying breath. “None of you can go.”

Now Alec stared with a glacial chill, like he was going to punch Steve in the mouth. “You mean I should just leave my boyfriend – _my boyfriend! –_ to his demon father's manipulations? Because I can and will demote you all the way back to Idris!”

To his credit, Steve did not flinch or back down even though Alec was practically bellowing in his face.

“It is precisely because you have that authority that I must stop you,” he said in a low, even tone. “Whether you like it or not, you are the New York Institute. If you physically go to Edom, if you send anyone from this Institute into Edom, you are engaging in an act of war. You are not merely Alec Lightwood, do you understand? You are more than yourself now. You represent the Clave, _you represent Idris._ What do you think will happen if Asmodeus discovers that nephilim infiltrated his domain?”

Alec's face blanched, as if someone had just dunked ice water on him. The younger man went back to his chair and sat down heavily. Steve hated to have been the one to do this, but this was a duty he had to his leader. With another sigh, he took the seat he had just vacated.

“Look, I empathize with you and with him,” said Steve. “I mean... you and I both know Idris wasn't – isn't – easy for people like us, and the mere thought of having to return to that sort of poisonous environment makes me sick to my stomach. And I bet Magnus' father is a thousand times worse.”

The other man rubbed his face with both hands. “What should I do then?” he asked, sounding exhausted.

Steve felt bad for Alec. The younger man had just been rescued from the clutches of a deranged ancient warlock, and he hadn't even had time to really process it before the love of his life disappeared while he was whisked away to an entirely different dimension. And now he had discovered that not only was his boyfriend a captive of a Prince of Hell, Magnus didn't remember him.

Alec Lightwood needed a break.

“Hey,” Steve said, in a much gentler tone, “I'll think of something. Because of you, we have allies in the Downworld. Perhaps there is someone who can-”

They both heard the scuffle at the door and instantly stood up, Alec grabbing the silver letter opener on his desk and Steve withdrawing a short tactical blade from the back of his boots. The scuffle stopped.

“ _Shutupshutupshutup”_ someone outside the door whispered.

Steve glanced at Alec who snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I know you guys are out there,” he said, putting down the letter opener. “Come in already.”

Isabelle, Jace and Clary walked in, looking ashamed. Alec and Steve both crossed their arms at the same time, and for a second Steve supposed the other Alec would have found this synchronicity hilarious.

Clary stepped forward. “We heard shouting earlier.”

“We had a disagreement about my earlier plan,” said Alec. “Underhill – Steve – he's talked some sense into me.”

“So we're not going into Edom?” Isabelle asked.

“Not unless you want a war between Edom and Idris,” said Steve. He was oddly gratified that Alec was referring to him as 'Steve', like he was a friend. “If you rescue Magnus against his will, which is a really difficult task in the first place, you are going to alert Asmodeus. He mustn't know Shadowhunters are involved.”

“And if Asmodeus decides to fight us for him...” Alec let his words taper off, knowing the others could fill in the blanks.

Jace glanced at Alec and then perched on the side of the desk. “He doesn't have his memories though. Why would he leave? It's not like he knows he has someone to come home to.”

“Then we give him his memories back.” When everyone looked at Clary, the redhead shrugged. “I don't know why Asmodeus took his memories, but it must have something to do with keeping Magnus there in Edom. If the King of Edom had to remove Magnus' memories to trap him there instead of just, I don't know, trapping him there, that must mean Magnus is more powerful than his father, right?”

Steve blinked. He had not thought about that. Judging by the looks on the other's faces, they had not considered that either.

“So... all we need is someone that isn't a shadowhunter to get Magnus' memories back.”

Alec sprung into action. “Alright, we need to get Lorenzo Rey. Izzy, you said Simon is a Daylighter... do you remember that annotation by Brother Benilde in the Book of Enoch, about the creation of the Nephilim?”

“Kinda? It's been years since we read it.”

“Dig it out. Something in it has information on Cain, and I distinctly remember it had a line on, uh, 'the undead walking in God's light'. I think that's a specific reference to a Daylighter vampire.” Alec bit on the knuckle of his right thumb. “Jace, go ask Maia if she could help us. It's very dangerous, so do tell her the truth. If she says no, that's okay, don't press. Then ask Cat and Dot to come here. Shit, I'm going to owe them so much.”

Jace nodded and slid off the table.

Clary raised a hand tentatively. “What can I do?”

“I need you to ask Simon – I can't believe I'm saying this – ask Simon to help. Same thing, tell him that this is a very dangerous mission, high chance of death, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't my last resort.” Alec breathed out. His dark eyes were darting all over the table as he made his decisions.

Clary and Jace left together. Isabelle nodded at Steve, and headed towards the library.

“Steve, I don't trust myself not to be too involved. I'm compromised,” Alec said quietly.

Steve smiled at him kindly. “You've not had a break since you were taken by Daji. I can take over. Just tell me your idea.”

***

Simon raised his eyebrows. “So you're saying we should've asked Alec about my forehead mark in the first place.”

“Not what I was hoping you'd focus on, but, yes.” Clary bounced on her heels. “So? Will you help?”

“It's Magnus, of course I will.” Simon glanced at Raphael, who was hovering nearby and pretending not to care. “Raphael, are you sure you don't want to come?”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “A vampire like me is worse than trash in the eyes of demons. I know better than to go where I'm not welcome.” Then, to Clary, he added, “But if you need anything else from me – my memories of Magnus, perhaps – just call me, and you shall have them.”

Clary quickly fished out her phone and texted Dot. Within half a minute, she had a response. The redheaded young woman smiled brightly at Raphael. “Yes, it'll help. Can you get to the Institute through the underground tunnels?”

“I'll find a way there, shadowhunter. Simon, go to the vault and pick a weapon you feel confident using.” Then the vampire clan leader strode away.

Simon grinned. “He's such a softie.”

***

“Why would you need a werewolf?” asked Maia. “Demons think I'm part-human and therefore the lowest of the low. It's suicide for any werewolf to go to Edom, which is crawling with demons.”

“If it's for me, I wouldn't ask. But it's for Magnus,” said Jace, laying down his ace.

Maia bit the side of her cheek. She ran her hand over the marks of her neck, and thought about the glamorous Magnus Bane, who had only ever been friendly and nonjudgmental, even when she was being an ass about the Clary and Soul Sword thing.

She nodded tersely. “Fine. But Alec better explains this to me clearly before we go, okay? That whole shit with Daji and the tower gave me nightmares about claustrophobia for days.”

“Sorry about your nightmares.”

Maia shrugged on a teal-green jacket and grabbed her spare bag of clothes. “Let's go. I'm going to need a four-shot coffee before I risk my life.”

***

After hearing how Lorenzo had conspired with Asmodeus, Dorothea wanted to claw the warlock's face off, but Cat had stopped her. In any case, once they got Magnus back, they would reveal Lorenzo's dealings with Asmodeus to the warlocks and call for another election. A High Warlock willing to bargain with a Prince of Hell to condemn another warlock to eternity in Edom, let alone someone as _good_ as Magnus... Dot could feel lightning spark between her fingertips and she told herself to chill.

“I fail to see why you would want Magnus Bane back,” said Lorenzo sulkily. Cat and Dot had bound him in a special spell-net that negated his abilities to cast spells. Before Alec and Isabelle had returned to the Institute, they had also tied him up with ropes to immobilize him. “He's far too easy with his favors.”

“Shut up,” Dot ordered.

“My nose itches,” he complained.

Cat walked into the office where they were holding Lorenzo in his chair. She rolled her wrist and flicked a little green orb at Lorenzo, sealing his mouth. He struggled and yelled, though the sounds were muffled.

“Don't be a baby,” said Catarina. “You can still breathe through that long nose, Pinocchio.” To Dot, she said, “I've sent out fire messages to the older warlocks. We will convene once we get Magnus back. And I got a message from Isabelle.”

“Oh, and I got one from Clary,” said Dot. “ _Alec has a plan. Bring Lorenzo._ ”

The two female warlocks glanced at Lorenzo.

“Whatever Alec's plan is, I hope you end up on the wrong side of Asmodeus,” she said to him. “You're already _persona non grata_ to Downworlders, by the way. And shadowhunters... they won't look kindly on a warlock willing to bargain with Asmodeus.”

“To sell one of our most respected warlocks to a Prince of Hell... I could spit thinking what Magnus must be suffering.” Dot called up a portal. “You're lucky Cat is here, because if it were up to me? You wouldn't make it to the Labyrinth.”

***

Alec's plan, when laid out, sounded simple.

“We fill this with our strongest memories of Magnus,” he said, setting down an amber ring in the center of the large table, “and have him read them. So one of you will have to get the ring to him. Simon, I need you in this. You are integral to the entire mission.”

Simon looked uncomfortable. “I don't... Why me?”

“Because a Daylighter is the only being that can harm Lilith,” said Izzy. She pointed at a few lines in a thick tome in front of her. “And we know for a fact that Asmodeus wants Lilith dead.”

Maia folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “What do I have to do with it?”

“We need a story to get you to Asmodeus,” said Alec. “No one is going to buy the idea that Simon just went straight in and pledged allegiance. So, this is where Lorenzo gets to make amends.”

Lorenzo Rey glared at them, but could not say a word.

“Mr Rey will send a message in his usual method, informing Asmodeus of a couple who are under great pressure from their pack and clan to break up. They have come to Mr Rey for advice, and given that Simon is a Daylighter, that makes him valuable to the King of Edom.” Steve's smile was calculating. “Simon, you have to insist on you and Maia being protected against the demons, and you will help to fight Lilith. Maia, you're in charge of this ring – it's not silver, I checked – and persuade him to take a look at what's in it.”

“I can make it so that once he puts it on, the memories will be automatically activated.” Catarina's hand was hovering over the ring, and faint golden light flowed between her hand and the piece of jewelry. “The memory Magnus put in it himself is powerful, and it's his signature on it. But the more memories we can give of us and him will help him recover as much of his stolen recollections as possible.”

Raphael, who had just arrived, only nodded solemnly. “Anything you need from me, you can have it.”

Alec gazed at the ring, his throat feeling tight with emotion, and then he looked at Maia and Simon who were now holding hands.

“I wouldn't ask if I couldn't think of any other way,” he said quietly and sincerely. “Please. You two are my best hope.”

Maia gazed at her boyfriend, and Simon squeezed her hand. Finally, the werewolf said, “Set it up. We'll go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, sometimes i yell at the characters for stupid decisions too


	19. Chapter 19

Edom was not what Simon had expected. He had thought it would resemble Christian art about Hell, with pits of boiling sulfur and brimstone, whatever that was. Instead, it just resembled a Mars landscape, with withered trees and endless heat. Some winged demons circled overhead, like vultures.

Next to him, Maia clung to his hand. Her skin was clammy. “This place is so... empty.”

“It's almost sad,” said Simon. “No wonder demons want to come to Earth. Nothing grows here.”

The young vampire was extremely nervous and trying his best not to show it, although he was sure Maia could smell it anyway. So far, the plan had unfolded too smoothly. Lorenzo Rey had sent a fire message to Asmodeus, Dot had sent them through that portal – it hurt like red hot pokers jabbing into his bones, and he hadn't known what red-hot pokers jabbing into his bones felt like until passing through that portal – and they were now walking towards a fortress that Lorenzo said was where Asmodeus resided.

“I bet Lorenzo Rey has set up a trap,” Maia muttered. Her hand clenched around Simon's whenever a gust of wind swept past them. “He probably alerted Asmodeus already.”

“The mark of Cain will protect us against attacks,” said Simon. “Just stick close to my side.”

She squeezed his hand again. “Not going to argue with you there.”

They followed the path, eventually reaching a slope. The fortress loomed over them like a giant about to feast, and more demons were flying overhead than before. Simon reached for the enchanted dagger in his belt. If he still had a pulse, it would be racing. The weight of the weapon was reassuring, and he had been training with Clary and Raphael, so he was sort of comfortable with hand-to-hand combat.

“Simon, look,” Maia whispered when they finally got to the top.

Behind the cliff where the fortress sat was a vast plain, stretching towards the horizon. There was a great army arrayed in massive blocks of soldiers, with banners flapping wildly in the desert-hot wind. When the two of them stared at the soldiers, they realized that they were looking at heavily armored demons, and they were all eerily silent.

“There has to be at least a hundred thousand down there,” Simon said.

“Six thousand to a legion, my dear, and I have command of almost two hundred.”

Both werewolf and vampire spun round. A well-dressed Chinese man stood behind them, one ringed hand on a gold-topped cane. He smiled cordially at the two of them.

Maia stepped back with a sharp intake of breath. “Oh god.”

The man's smile was friendly as a knife. “Oh no. That... entity and I do not get along.” His gaze slid to Simon and his eyes narrowed. “The Daylighter. I am exceedingly pleased to make your acquaintance. I am, as you may have surmised, the King of Edom.”

Simon swallowed and licked his lips. “Sir. Mr, um. Y-your majesty? Maia and I... we need protection. From my clan and her pack.”

“As that weaselly little warlock told me.” Asmodeus gestured to the fortress behind him. There was a person-sized entrance set into the huge bronze doors. Simon did his best not to stare at the figurines writhing and twisted on the gates.

“Please, come with me, Mr Lewis, Miss Roberts,” said Asmodeus. “We will talk in a more comfortable location.”

Simon took Maia's hand and made sure she walked behind him. Everything about Asmodeus exuded danger.

Once past the heavy bronze gates, they were led through a courtyard. Dozens of men and women, some armored and some in regular human attire, walked about. As Maia and Simon walked past, every one of these people turned to stare at them. Many of their eyes glowed – golden, silver, green, red... Some bared their teeth in snarls, others were deliberately expressionless.

“Excuse my associates,” said Asmodeus as he limped ahead. “They are unused to interacting with half-humans and undead in our own territory.”

“Uh, I-I guess that it's not a thing for Downworlders to come here.” Simon swallowed. He had a sudden hunger borne out of nervousness, and the general warlike atmosphere was making him antsier than ever.

“No, it is not.” Asmodeus directed them into a small room. “Have a seat.”

Maia took the chair near the door, and Simon shifted the other chair closer to his girlfriend.

Asmodeus sank into his own and laced his fingers together. It was very Godfather, in Simon's opinion, and imagined there being a cat in the demon's lap. “What seems to be the issue?”

Simon licked his lips. He really was hungry. “We... we got together a few months ago and, um. Initially, it was just her pack who were unhappy, but we thought we'd just move away, have our dates in places catering to Mundanes. I mean, our love life is, it's our own business, you know?”

“And then during the whole Valentine incident – I assume you, I mean, your majesty, you know about the Soul Sword tragedy?” asked Maia. When Asmodeus nodded in acknowledgment, she went on. “Well, something happened when the Soul Sword released its power and Simon became the Daylighter, and that soured what little bond he had with the clan that originally took him in.”

“I'd have thought they would be delighted.”

“They felt I was holding out on them,” said Simon. This was almost as bad as the application interview. “And the, um, the Seelie Queen took an interest in me. It... made things worse.” He patted his girlfriend's hand.

Maia rolled her eyes. “Goddamn fae bitch.”

“She can be capricious.” Asmodeus smiled. Simon could tell where Magnus' good looks were inherited, if physical traits were inherited the way they were between human parents and children. “But she is also bound by oath. Daylighters, like all wonders of nature, belong to her purview. She marked you for your protection.”

“Yeah, well, I ended up hurting one of Maia's packmates real bad, and then I injured my clan leader, Raphael. So I am not popular in either group. Not that werewolves like vampires in the first place. And the Seelie Queen won't see me to take this mark off of me.”

The King of Edom tapped his fingers on his cane. “You wish to fight for me in exchange for...?

Simon and Maia shared a look. They had talked about this before, so Simon wasn't worried about coming off being insincere. “For a place for me and Maia to live safe and free from harassment. She deserves better than this. I mean, I've tried breaking it off...”

“And if I hear you say that it's for my safety one more time, I will wolf out and eat you,” Maia warned, though there was a ghost of a smile around her eyes. To Asmodeus, she said, “Look, it's not just what Simon and I have. It's that... As a young black woman, I am constantly on the defense. I am attacked for not being old, for not being white, for not being male. I just... I just want to be in a place where it's not about what I'm not, but what I am and what I can do.”

Asmodeus smiled warmly, putting on the charm. “That, I can give you. Both of you. Of course, the deal has to be closed, with a ritual.”

“Is this... Do you, uh, d-do you, like, need my soul in exchange or something?”

“Mr Lewis, even if I were of the mind to take your soul,” the demon drawled, “you don't have one now. Miss Roberts, of course, has one, but a werewolf's soul is not as valuable as her transformation.”

Simon felt Maia tensing up. She said evenly, “If you take my transformation, I would be entirely human.”

“You would still be entirely werewolf, Miss Roberts, just... unable to switch. And you assume that I would want you to remain in this very fetching form.”

Maia blanched and leaped to her feet. “Simon, we're going.”

Asmodeus smiled. “No, you're not.”

Two cages fell over Simon and Maia, their bars glowing orange with heat. Simon stood up and banged on the bar, but was thrown right back into his chair. Maia was growling madly, but she hadn't changed yet.

“Did you truly think that I wouldn't know there would be some harebrained attempt to steal my son from me?” asked Asmodeus. “He is where he belongs. The Daylighter, I will keep. You will be useful in my upcoming battle against Lilith. As for you, my dear Miss Roberts, I will keep you in a cell, just in case your boyfriend decides to be clever. It'd be safer for you to be a wolf, however. The jailers tend to have interesting proclivities.”

***

With his eyes shut, and his head pillowed on Jace's thigh, Alec tried his best to relax while lying on the sofa. “I swear, I can feel my liver working.”

“Some might say that is a sign of you needing some proper sleep,” said Jace. He was combing through his parabatai's dark curls in a soothing, slow rhythm. “Simon and Maia are fine. Maia's smart, and Simon has that crazy mark to protect him.”

“But Asmodeus is a Prince of Hell.”

“They knew that going in,” said Steve, who had parked himself in Alec's chair. A thick leather-bound book on demonology was open in his lap, and a mug of peppermint tea lay on the table.

Isabelle had her own book open but she had commandeered the comfortable. “You don't seem concerned.”

“I learned how to compartmentalize a long time ago,” he answered, flipping a page. “Benefits of being closeted.”

“Hear hear,” said Alec, eyes still closed.

“I like how you're okay with joking about being gay now,” said Jace, tweaking Alec's ear. “You should have come out years ago.”

Alec brushed Jace's hand away. “Yeah, and put up with Mom and Dad's disapproval.”

“I got something.” Izzy straightened in her seat and started reading aloud. “Listen. 'Asmodeus was worshiped by the names Asmodai, Chammaday, Sydonai, amid others. By all accounts, Asmodeus is King of Edom, and his counterpart is Lilith, Mother of Demons. They bear each other nothing but enmity'. It goes on about Lilith...” She skated her finger along the page. “Aha. 'Asmodeus is a master of dreams and manipulator of memories. He has but one weakness – that of all the Princes of Hell, he alone retains the angelic burden of Love of Humanity. However, as a fallen angel, Asmodeus is corrupted, and so is that Love; it is said that he has focused all of his Love for Humanity on one being, that who has been named _Olapireta_ by the scholar Brother Augustine.”

“Olapireta... that means 'Light', doesn't it?”

Alec sat up. “Any other reference to this Olapireta?”

Steve raised a hand. “Not this book. The book I was reading just – aha. Not Olapireta, but there was something about Asmodeus and light... 'The light _Kekasih_ was lost, and Asmodeus grieved for the darkness which was cast upon him; his wrath and sorrow darkened Edom.' This is heavy stuff.”

“Kekasih... I don't recognize that language,” said Jace.

“I do.” Alec covered his face again. “It means _Beloved_.”

***

Magnus didn't like the armor. He knew it was reinforced with Asmodeus' magic, but it was restrictive and heavy. It was black, with gold scrollwork along the edges that was not merely ornametal. He could feel the protective spells pulsing along those gold lines.

“You don't like it,” said Asmodeus, who was seated on the bed, playing with the kittens Mercury and Venus. Jupiter was dozing on Magnus' pillow, Mars trying to climb up Magnus' armored leg, and Pluto had hidden herself under the bed.

Magnus removed the helmet. It had a scarlet plume. “It's really not my style, to be honest.”

“Given that we will be marching into war in less than an hour, I'm not certain I can make adjustments,” said Asmodeus. He stood and snapped his fingers. A coat of armor materialized on him, gold and scarlet with black runes in a repeated pattern over the plates. “Outside of greater protection, the armor will amplify your spells and keep you from the attentions of our demon allies.”

“I appreciate it, Father, I really do. Who is going to be looking after the kittens while we're gone?” Magnus asked.

“I am a king, my darling boy. I will have someone feed them and clean up after them.”

Magnus picked the ginger tabby Mars up – albeit with some difficulty due to the armor – and kissed his little nose. “You will have to be very, very good little kitties now, okay?”

“I am glad the others do not see you this way,” teased Asmodeus. “The enemy would be struck dumb with how nonthreatening you are.”

“You know I will kill on your word,” said Magnus. “I take no delight nor pride in it, but I will.”

“They are but demons, dear child, and once I am the sole ruler of Edom, you can restore life to it.” Asmodeus brushed hair from Magnus' brow and trailed his hand fondly along his son's jaw. “My _kekasih_ , the Bane of Edom... You can destroy this vast barrenness, and create what should have been.”

The warlock leaned into his father's touch. “You have far too much faith in me.”

“No, I do not.” The demon kissed Magnus softly. “I have exactly the right amount of faith. I see in you what was ripped from me so long ago; through you, my darling boy, Light will return to Edom.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short update but i needed it to end where it did. Heading into the homestretch now.

Whenever the guards walked past, Maia snarled and paced in the cold cell Asmodeus had placed her in. Once they were out of sight and hearing, however, she dug into her back pocket and found the glass marble Dot and Catarina had given her. She put it under her heel and pressed down on it with all her weight. The glass cracked and two glowing wisps fluttered out, like tiny butterflies. One was lime green, the other neon pink. They orbited around her.

“Unlock this cell,” Maia whispered. The two wisps darted into the tiny opening in the cell gate. She kept an eye out for the demons, and then her acute hearing picked up the telltale click of the tip of a cane on stone. “Wait, stop. Lock. Hide in my back pocket.”

She hurried back to the glass shards and stood on them, arms crossed over her chest. Asmodeus' shadow darkened the hallway and then appeared outside the cell. “Miss Roberts.”

“Asshole.”

“Hmm. Given that you and your vampire lover are quite literally at my mercy, perhaps you should be more polite.”

Maia gave him a tight-lipped smile and flipped the finger. “You're going to kill us anyway, your majesty.”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, and then motioned for one of the guards to come to him. The demon loped forward. The King of Edom grabbed it by the throat and, in the next breath, obliterated its upper half in a spray of ichor and flesh. The rest of the demon collapsed to the ground. Asmodeus smiled pleasantly at Maia. “Consider this your first and last warning, Miss Roberts.”

Swallowing nervously, Maia lifted her chin anyway. “Consider me warned. Why are you here?”

“I have a little task that I don't trust my servants to do.” Asmodeus wiped off his hand with a pocket square. “You will be living in my suite in the duration while I am away, which the other guard will show you to. Once you are in there, you will not be allowed out of it. Feel free to use the bathtub and cook in the kitchen – it is fully stocked, with plenty of raw meat if you prefer that. However, you will _not_ sleep in my bed, and the study will be locked and warded.”

“That's... really nice. What's the catch? If it is to sleep with you, hard pass. I like my men not-evil.”

“You are going to care for five kittens. You will play with them, feed them, groom them, water them, and clear their litter.” Asmodeus smirked. “They are young enough that you will not alarm them. Unfortunately, they smell delicious to most of my underlings, which is why you have been entrusted with this duty. As for why you must remain in my suite... Well. I will not have a mutt run freely around my fortress.”

Maia narrowed her eyes at him. She needed to get upstairs so the two wisps conjured by Cat and Dot to help would be able to get to Magnus. “When are you leaving?”

“Within the hour.” Asmodeus leaned a little more heavily on his cane. “That is the task I require of you while your lover helps me destroy Lilith. Perhaps, if the kittens fare well enough under your care, I will consider not killing you. I might even set you and him up in an entirely different city, away from your pack and his clan.”

“You will _consider_ it?” The werewolf raised her eyebrow and smirked. “You're still going to kill me then. In that case I might as well just stay here and let the kittens starve. I'm not a cat person, anyway.”

“Well. You do drive a hard bargain,” said Asmodeus with the barest hint of approval in his smile. “You get to live, if the kittens thrive in your care.”

“Deal,” Maia said. She set her hands on her hips and stared at him fearlessly. “Oh, one more thing. If Simon's hurt because of you or your demons? I'll eat the kitties myself. Just wolf out and munch them up.”

Asmodeus extended a hand through the bars of the jail cell. “You have yourself a deal. Let us shake on it.”

Maia took his hand and shook. This close to him, she could smell Asmodeus positively reeking of blood, blended with steel, ash and sulfur. Pain spiked through her hand and she jerked her hand back. A sigil had been seared into her palm.

“What the hell?” she shouted at Asmodeus. “What's this?”

“A tracker,” said the demon. He called for the other guard to clear out the mess on the ground and gave further instructions. “Fygguth, show Miss Roberts to my suite once the army moves out. Stand watch by the door. If she tries to flee, kill her and leave her head and heart for me.”

The second demon guard bowed and loped away. Asmodeus spared one more glance at Maia, before he walked off as well, the tapping of his cane fading into the distance.

***

Simon wasn't sure what to expect, but he really didn't expect to see a whole army of demons of so many types that he wondered why Asmodeus needed him at all. The demons stayed a healthy distance from Simon, although most of them couldn't stop staring at him. Word must have got out that he was the Daylighter. He peered around. Some resembled humans – shapeshifters, probably – but most were utterly demonic. There were a few that looked like they had been moldering in a crypt, and he was sure he saw two sphinxes stride away, their wings flapping and closing on their backs. He much preferred the scaly or furry ones with too much teeth to those who were, essentially, mobile suppurating pus bags. These made him nauseous and he didn't have food in his stomach to throw up in the first place.

Then one short demon, about knee high but bristling with hundreds of spiky quills, scurried up to Simon. “The Prince wishes to speak with you.”

Simon followed the demon and was led to the warlock, who had an attendant with him. Magnus was dressed in armor that looked vaguely like samurai armor, with a red-plumed helmet in one hand, and when he regarded Simon it was with an air of polite disinterest.

“I hear you are the Daylighter,” he said. “What is your name?”

“Simon Lewis.”

“Hello Simon.” Magnus handed his helmet to his attendant, a green and scaly creature with a feathery ruff, then waved him away. He waited until he and Simon were alone before he spoke again. “While I do not know what brought you here to pledge allegiance to my father, rest assured that I will be keeping an eye on you. Your presence is far too fortuitous.”

Simon made himself look straight at Magnus. It was strange to see zero recognition in that handsome face. Magnus always looked regal, especially when he angled his face just so, but there was always a soft friendliness to his gaze that drew people in. Now he was looking at Simon with mild distrust.

Simon shrugged nervously and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I came because we figured this was our best chance of getting what we want.”

“We?”

“My girlfriend and I. We need a new life away from my clan and her pack, so we came here. Figured I could try to win his favor with this war of his. Then Asmodeus detained her.”

“My father is threatening you with her life, you mean?” Magnus asked quietly, and sighed. “If we both survive this, I will see to it you and your girlfriend are safe.”

Simon was touched. “That is... That's really kind of you.”

Magnus smiled. “Consider me the carrot and my father the stick.”

Simon bowed hastily and said, “I can't thank you enough for this. Um, I-I don't have anything to thank you with.”

“You don't have to,” said Magnus, amused.

“No, I must. Um. Maybe this ring? This was from a powerful warlock,” said Simon, feeling anxiety creep up his neck. He presented the amber ring that Alec and the warlock women had passed to them.

They both heard a strange ululation begin in the back of the army, the sound rolling forward and gathering strength. It was almost time to go. Magnus took the ring from Simon and studied it, though he did not put them on since his hands were gloved. Then he slid it into a small pouch that he then tucked inside his armor. “Thank you, Simon Lewis.”

***

Izzy was dozing in her chair, a book open in her lap. Alec gently lifted the volume away and Steve covered her with a light blanket. Jace and Clary had retired to bed, and the warlocks had gone home to keep Madzie company.

Steve and Alec walked to the library together, Steve keeping pace easily with Alec's longer stride. Alec could see how his other self would have fallen for the older shadowhunter, if their dynamic was anywhere near the way he and Steve functioned. Of all his new appointees, Alec was most pleased with his Head of Security. The fact that Steve Underhill could be rational when Alec was too blinded by emotion meant Alec had someone he trusted not only to watch his back but to take care of the Institute. Duty was important. Duty, integrity and rationality were essential traits for all shadowhunters, in Alec's opinion, and Steve had demonstrated he had all three.

Jace didn't take duty seriously enough, Izzy liked bending the rules, and Clary was hot-headed. As for Alec himself, he was redefining what duty meant to him, and learning that being true to himself was the purest form of integrity. He knew he tended to be unreasonable when people he loved were in harm's way, but that was true of anyone who was not a psychopath.

He missed Magnus though. Magnus was the only man who could take Alec out of his own head with a single quip or a gentle touch. He felt unbalanced, like he was walking on a tightrope.

“Alec,” Steve said, “where are you going?”

Alec blinked. He had just walked past the entrance to the library. “Sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Three guesses who I was thinking about.”

Steve smiled tiredly and suppressed a yawn. “Magnus will be fine. I bet Simon and Maia have already met him.”

“I can't believe I let you talk me into letting them do this,” said Alec. “I also can't believe they agreed to it.”

Blinking sleepily, Steve grinned. “You know they're not doing this for you, right? They're doing this for Magnus.”

“They're still risking their lives.” Alec put the book back on the correct shelf. “Go to bed, Steve. I'll wait for news.”

Though Steve looked like he was going to insist on staying with Alec until they heard back from Maia and Simon, he gave in when he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Alec settled into a chair and called up a search for references to Olapireta. About a dozen references popped up, most of it in Latin. He sighed and started reading, slowly translating as he went along. By the third, he had to lean back and take a break. He could not focus on the words. Instead, he kept thinking about Magnus, and the way he had looked at Alec like a stranger.

He hoped Steve's Trojan Horse gambit would work out.

***

Even with portals, sending thousands upon thousands of demons across Edom to fight Lilith was a chore. The massive portal Asmodeus and the other lords of Hell had created was a jagged, raw wound in reality through which hellhounds and other demonic entities poured.

Flauros and Magnus were in the vanguard. The warlock shifted uneasily on his hellhound mount. His armor was alien in its weight and restrictiveness, and he wanted nothing more than to get out of it. However, even as he monitored the demon legions arraying before the solitary mountain where Lilith resided, he knew taking it off would be suicidal.

The dragons that had circled overhead earlier were already no more than ashes and charred bone. Magnus himself had taken down two of the smaller ones, while Flauros had taken care of the rest. Now the blood-red skies were empty. Even the wind had died down, like Edom itself was holding its breath.

The armor was really annoying in the heat. He pulled off a glove and wiggled his fingers, just to send a spark of magic off his fingertips. Then he remembered the ring that Daylighter had given him.

An odd present, but the vampire had been sincere and truthful. Magnus still didn't trust him completely, yet earlier, during their short conversation, his magic told him that the Daylighter had not been lying. He wondered what werewolf would date a vampire, especially since one was mortal and the other was not. After his experiences, he doubted he could ever love anyone not immortal again.

Of course, that was why he was here, wasn't he? Asmodeus was the only being in all creation who understood Magnus down to his very marrow, and Magnus knew his father would never leave him. Magnus was tired of people leaving him.

The ring was a pretty little thing of silver and amber that Magnus himself would have picked out. He could sense more than one magical signature in it but nothing dangerous. It was probably a little trinket used by a warlock to contain treasured memories.

The ring was _very_ pretty, and he found it almost familiar. As if on autopilot, he slipped it on and admired the way it fit his middle finger perfectly.

The amber glowed. Then it cracked.

Magnus stared, suddenly concerned. “What in the world...?”

And then the amber shattered, releasing a golden cloud that shot like an arrow into Magnus' parted mouth.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Simon hadn't understood what a massacre really was until this day.

The battlefield was strewn with carcasses from both sides of the war. Lilith had been quiescent until the massive portal had closed, and then the skies erupted with thousands of flaming dragons. The Lords of Hell revealed their true selves, of too many eyes and mouths and teeth; the lesser demons so much canon fodder; the shrill discordant song of agony and death overwhelming the thunderous beating of great leathery wings.

When he was younger, Simon had talked to some of the elders in the synagogue who survived the war. Most preferred not to remember it – every line on their faces was a mark of loss. But Uncle Eli had shared when asked. He had been at Dachau, and he had fed the furnaces. Simon had been nine when he listened to Uncle Eli talk about his gruesome task, and he hadn't really comprehended the horror of it.

Now, standing on a ledge on Lilith's mountain, he could smell the dead demons. It wasn't the sulfur that made him gag, but the pervasive smell of cooked _meat;_ he was a vampire, with heightened senses, and he would cut off his own nose if it meant never smelling this stench again.

Lilith herself had not shown her face.

Magnus stayed close to Simon, which pleased Asmodeus; any demon who tried to attack either of them would turn to salt. Asmodeus decimated much of the opposing forces in his true form, a huge feline creature of flame and smoke, his claws and teeth sharper than spears.

While the battle raged, the warlock and the vampire sought out a path into the heart of the mountain. That had been the plan from the start. The thousands who were slaughtered were nothing more than a distraction, to keep Lilith's eyes focused on elsewhere.

After the golden light flooded into Magnus, he did not behave any differently, nor did he show any recognition of Simon. The Daylighter was uncertain if Cat and Dot's spell had worked at all. He hoped that it did. Maia should be preparing the way home now, with help from the two magic wisps.

Simon did not need to catch his breath, and with vampiric speed, he could determine which was the right path into the heart of the mountain. Magnus followed, eerily silent despite his heavy armor; Simon was too intimidated to ask questions.

They came to an enormous cavern, its walls glittering like rubies, and there was a central spire surrounded by a pool that appeared black. Simon made the mistake of looking at the surface of the wall closely and had to twist his head away to suppress a violent surge of nausea.

“You should not be here.”

Magnus tugged Simon behind him while a shield of magic glimmered into existence in front of them, a glowing blue rhombus that was as tall as Magnus himself. “Show yourself.”

A tall figure unfolded itself from the top of the spire and started downwards. It looked unlike any demon Simon had ever seen before, and by now he had seen his fair share of them. This creature looked like it was built out of raw meat. Simon was sure that was not a human being, yet his nose told him that it was human flesh he smelled, though not human blood. Its voice was masculine and very pleasant, utterly at odds with its appearance.

“A warlock and a vampire. You are either very brave, or very stupid.” A long bladed staff materialized in the creature's hand, the blade gleaming red.

Simon whispered, “What is that thing?”

“I don't know,” Magnus murmured in reply. “Stay behind me until we are certain.” Aloud, he asked, “Where is Lilith?”

“Mother is still recovering,” the creature said, twirling the bladed staff. “She's put me in charge.”

Simon tensed. If this being was candid about Lilith being out of commission, then it was obviously confident of killing Magnus and Simon. Judging by the intensity of the glow in Magnus's right hand, the warlock must have come to the same conclusion.

Magnus strode forward, motioning for Simon to back away more. “You are Lilith's offspring, and I am Asmodeus' son. Seems apropos for you and me to settle our parents' feud.”

“Asmodeus' son? The one he calls _Kekasih_ , the Bane of Edom? I am honored,” said the thing. When it walked, it left sticky red prints on the steps as he descended the spire. “I have no titles, unfortunately.”

“Surely you have a name,” Magnus said calmly. “Mine's Magnus.”

“Jonathan. Jonathan Morgenstern.” It – _he,_ Simon corrected mentally – sounded happy. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Magnus.”

“Likewise.”

 _Morgenstern._ Simon's hackles rose and his fangs lengthened. _Morgenstern, as in Valentine._

Jonathan walked across the pool on top of the pool, little ripples spreading outwards where his feet touched the surface. The blade of the staff trailed a clean line through the water. Magnus walked forward, the blue shimmer around his right hand intensifying.

Simon stayed back for the moment. His sense of smell was confused and the contrasting signals were giving him serious toothache; the idea that there was still a Morgenstern alive scared him also.

Magnus and Jonathan circled each other. It was the latter who charged first. The blade at the end of the staff met Magnus' shield of magic and a terrible screech echoed around the cavern. Jonathan tried to force his weapon through, and Magnus' face contorted with effort. The runes on his armor pulsed, red and black, and then Magnus' magic flashed to a crimson hue.

A second strike, but this time, Jonathan was thrown back into the cavern wall. Pressing his advantage, Magnus flung a fireball, followed by another. They both hit Jonathan but he only laughed.

Simon would have felt his blood chill, if he were still human. There was something desperately demented in Jonathan's laughter.

“You think that would hurt me? I was sent to Edom in fire and had every inch of skin burned off me!” he bellowed at Magnus. “I was _baptized_ in flame!”

He sprinted forward and sidestepped Magnus' shield easily. His blade struck the warlock in his side, and then he tried to impale Magnus with a downward thrust. He'd have succeeded if Simon hadn't darted forward, grabbed Magnus and hauled him to the side.

Simon could feel Jonathan's dispassionate regard.

“Vampire. An undead abomination,” Jonathan said with mild disgust. “You dare pollute my mother's home with your presence?”

“Undead abomination? Look in a mirror lately, pal?” Simon retorted.

Magnus was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. There was a gash in his side, and he pulled frantically at his armor. Simon wanted to help him, but he kept his eyes on Jonathan and stood between the raw, bleeding, humanoid _thing_ and Magnus.

Jonathan tilted his head. “An abomination thinking you can stop me?”

“Try me,” Simon said, shifting into a fighting stance Clary taught him, just in case that crazy mark thing suddenly ceased to function.

A blue glowing shield appeared in between them, but flickered out. Anxious, Simon glanced behind him to check on the warlock. “Magnus?”

Jonathan charged.

***

Maia explored the suite. There was only one bed, but it was large, and she could smell Asmodeus and Magnus on it.

It sickened and grieved her. She'd thought she knew what to expect, but this... If she had the power, she would rip Asmodeus apart with her teeth.

 _Poor Magnus._ She would never say that to Magnus though. Pity was a vile and useless thing, in her opinion. She hated knowing people felt sorry for her, and knowing how proud Magnus was, pity would sting like lemon juice on open wounds.

The kittens were fluffy and adorable. They also gave her hell, climbing up her legs and trying to sit on her shoulders. Their tiny claws pricked like needles, and they would not stop meowing. She ended up making a sort of sling from one of the pillowcases so she could keep all five in them while she cleared out a space for the wisps to draw a pentagram that would return them home.

She hoped the plan worked. And she hoped the kittens would make it through too.

***

Magnus finally got himself out of the armor. If he hadn't been stabbed by Jonathan, he'd have been trapped in it forever. He could still feel his father's powers in his veins, but his own magic was reasserting itself, erasing all foreign influence.

Simon was still staring at the unconscious form lying on the far side of the cavern. “This mark... it's really useful.”

“Thanks for protecting me,” said Magnus.

“Do you remember Alec? And, well, all of us?”

Magnus shook his head. “Some memories are mine, but many... many are lost to me. Asmodeus would have used them to fuel himself.” He flexed his hands and blue sparks jumped from his fingers. “But I'm myself again, and that's the most important thing.”

_If only I could scrub some other memories from my mind._

He healed himself and walked around. The pool of water rippled but he could not see under its surface; there was something there. It radiated an awful, stomach-churning aura of potency.

“We should get out of here,” said Simon nervously as he trailed after the warlock. “I mean, even if Lilith is recuperating, there are still, like, hundreds of dragons out there. And this place gives me the creeps.”

A tall man strode into the cavern, leaning heavily on a cane. “And where might you go?” Asmodeus asked.

“Father,” Magnus whispered.

Simon froze, his gaze darting from one to the other.

Asmodeus had blood on his cheek, which he wiped off with the back of his hand and then licked it clean, as if he were a lion grooming himself. His eyes were molten gold and fixed on Magnus. “You removed the armor.”

“I was stabbed,” said Magnus.

“Stabbed?”

“Lilith has a son too,” Magnus answered, pointing to the bloody, unconscious form.

Asmodeus flicked his hand and Jonathan was engulfed in black flames. “She _had_ a son. Where is Lilith?”

Magnus could not tear his eyes from the incineration. “Why did you do that?”

“Where is Lilith?” Asmodeus asked again.

“ _Here._ ” Lilith clawed out of the water. She looked terrible; half of her was charred to the bone, and the rest of her was stuck between a human form and a reptilian shape. She flung a spell at the black flames and put out the fire; Jonathan was still there, not turned into ashes. “Filthy bastard, did you think you could be rid of me this easily?”

Asmodeus smirked. “No, which is why I have my son and a Daylighter here.”

Lilith's eyes grew wide. The Mother of Demons looked terrified as she realized that outside of Asmodeus and Magnus, there was still Simon. Even if she called for her demonic children, they would not return in time to save her.

“You cannot do this!” she cried out hoarsely. “We are bound to this plane, together, you cannot expect to rule it alone!”

“Ah, but I would not be alone,” said Asmodeus, holding out a hand to his son. “My darling boy will be co-ruler.”

Magnus hesitated before he walked over and put his hand in his father's. He did his best to remain calm and in control, although skin-to-skin contact made him want to throw up.

Lilith crawled over to Jonathan's prone form and covered him with her own body. Her human eye, dark and limpid, began to cry; her demon eye stared at them with hate and impotent fury.

“Purveyor of filth and lies. You tricked me into leaving Adam,” she hissed, her voice distorting as she spoke. “You tricked me, all of you, you made me barren and accursed, and you turned me into _this_. Now that I finally have a son, you would kill us both?”

Asmodeus was tranquility itself. “I would have killed just him,” he said. “You should have stayed in your little wading pool, Lilith.”

Lilith bared her monstrous teeth. She was reverting more and more to her real form. “Even if you kill me, you wouldn't be able to harness the power of the Waters, you soulless bastard.”

“Like I said, you shouldn't have come out of it,” said Asmodeus, waving at Simon to move forward.

Magnus glanced at the boy and shook his head slightly. To his father, he asked, “Waters?”

“This is the source of Pishon, once ancient and mighty.” Asmodeus snorted. “Sanctified by God to feed the garden of Eden, and now just a bathing pool. Terrible for demons, but Lilith isn't just a mere demon, after all.”

Simon looked terrified with every step he took towards Lilith and Jonathan. Asmodeus was watching the vampire with an air of great anticipation. Magnus took a deep breath, and shoved Asmodeus into the water. Asmodeus howled, and the water fountained up as he fought to get out of it. Magnus yelled at Simon and opened a portal within the next breath.

Simon shot through the portal with vampiric speed and Magnus closed it behind him.

“You're back!” Maia exclaimed. A chorus of meows erupted from the pillowcase she slung over her shoulder. She hugged Simon and then looked at Magnus. “You... you do know who we are, right?”

“Yes, Maia, I do,” said Magnus. “We need a pentagram to get back to- Wait. It's there.”

“Yeah,” said Maia. Two wisps floated over and circled her. “Catarina and Dorotea thought I should have some help preparing the way home.”

 _Home._ Home was Brooklyn, was freedom and sunshine and Alexander. Magnus got ready to power up the pentagram, but Maia stopped him.

“Why?” he demanded.

Maia held out a hand. “Tracking spell. Asmodeus bugged me.”

“Fuck.” The warlock waved a hand over it and located the spell lodged within the wrist bones of the werewolf. “This is gonna hurt.”

“Do it.” She handed her makeshift bag of meowing kittens to Simon.

Magnus sank his magic under her skin, and then tugged the tracking spell out. Maia's face turned pale with agony, but she didn't make a sound. Finally, Magnus got rid of it, incinerating the persistent little thing with a snap of his fingers. He had enough juice to power up the pentagram; instead of fire, water bubbled out of the center, but never flowed out of the protective circle.

Maia stepped in and dropped out of sight. Simon clutched the bag of kittens close and followed. Finally, Magnus took a deep breath and stepped _through_ , feeling a rush akin to falling. Then his head stopped spinning and he could stand.

And the first thing he saw once he got to his feet was Alec. His Alexander, with shadows under his large, pretty eyes, with his hair greasy from lack of washing, with his clothes wrinkled beyond hope.

“You're home,” Alec whispered, and held out his arms.

Magnus could not get into the embrace fast enough. He clung to Alec and pressed kisses to his boyfriend's face, neck, jaw, anywhere he could reach. “I'm home. I'm home.”

Magnus heard Cat and Dot talking to Simon and Maia, but he only had eyes for his Alexander. Perhaps there were other people present, trying to get his attention, but the warlock ignored everything that was no Alec Lightwood.

“It's been nearly a month since Daji,” Alec whispered. “I've been to another dimension, Magnus, I've walked Limbo to get back here to get to you. The other dimension didn't have a Magnus Bane! Can you even imagine?”

“You don't want to know what I've been through,” Magnus countered. No, he was not going to tell Alec about the things done to him while under Asmodeus' control. Anyway, he had worked past the trauma once, he could do it again, and right now, wrapped in Alec's strong arms, nothing else really mattered.

Perhaps that was why no one was ready when the pentagram exploded, throwing all of them towards the walls of the room.

When the dust settled, Asmodeus stood tall in the heart of the pentagram, his golden eyes fixed on Alec and Magnus. He looked the worse for wear, with part of his suit ripped and half his hair an actual mane of sable and tawny fur; his left hand was stuck between resembling a paw and a human extremity.

“So, my beautiful betrayer, this is the human boy you have chosen over me? You would choose a nephilim over reigning by my side?” Asmodeus asked. His voice, always deep, now held a dangerous purr. Magic oozed from him, a slow spill of crimson light out of his hands. He was beyond incensed.

Magnus felt his own magic stirring in response to his father's wrath. “I'd choose him any day, Father.”

“For God so loved the world, he gave his only Son,” Asmodeus recited. "But I so love my son that I will sacrifice this world, and all other worlds besides. You are  _mine_ , Magnus."

“I haven't been yours – willingly yours – since I was a teenager.”

The King of Edom paused. A truly hideous smile cut his face. “You are mine, _kekasih._ Our blood is our bond. And if taking your memories of him doesn't keep you with me, perhaps I'll just take his life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to go, i think!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following this for so long! Please leave a comment or a kudo at the end, and have a wonderful 2019 :)

“I see where you get your flair for the dramatic from,” Alec said, untangling from Magnus and shielding him with his own body. “Asmodeus, I presume. Not how I thought I'd be meeting my boyfriend's father.”

“You talk to me like we are equals.” The King of Edom glared at him with golden eyes, identical to Magnus' yet utterly different. Magic cascaded from him, choking the room with the smell of sulfur and fresh blood. He stalked forward, the cane in his right hand shimmering and changing into a glowing sword with every step. “Tiny, insignificant, a whisper in the long sigh of existence, what are you but a grain of sand in my shoe?”

Red light shot out from his deformed left hand and Magnus abruptly shoved Alec behind him, absorbing the blow. Blue magic coalesced around his fists. “Father, you don't have to do this.”

“You betrayed me,” said Asmodeus. “You've rejected my love for you, when I am the only one who loves you for everything you are! Why can you not see sense, Magnus?” He raised his sword arm.

A whip sang out and caught him by the wrist. Izzy was on the other end, her dark eyes flashing with ire. Cat and Dot were both with her, dual magical shields before them.

Asmodeus glared at her. “Mortal girl, do you truly think your little whip can hold me forever?”

“No, but I just need to hold you long enough.” Izzy met Alec's eyes and nodded.

Alec smacked his hand on a panel the wall behind him. The walls dissipated, revealing that they were in the middle of the courtyard, and dozens of shadowhunters encircled them, their weapons at the ready. Jace walked up and handed Alec's bow and quiver to him.

Other than the shadowhunters were werewolves, already transformed, and vampires, all eerily silent. Maia smiled and threw her head back with a joyous howl. The entire pack joined in, woeful calls layering and overlapping; Maia fell to her hands and shifted. Her teeth glinted in the moonlight. Simon fell in next to Raphael.

“How lovely,” said Asmodeus. “A Downworlder-Shadowhunter collaboration. And all for me.” He pulled on Izzy's whip and flung her into the waiting group. Steve caught her, but stumbled back into several others.

“Izzy!” Alec barely had time to draw his bow when Asmodeus swung his blade down on him again. Before he was struck, Magnus magically shoved him aside into Jace. His parabatai nodded at him, before he and Clary were charging at Asmodeus, their three seraph blades glowing like purest moonlight in the presence of a Prince of Hell.

One of the werewolves bowled Asmodeus over, away from Clary, and was flung at yet another cluster of shadowhunters. Alec could not get a clear shot. He grabbed Magnus and pulled him along, to the edges of the courtyard, and then through the magical barricade that the warlocks of Brooklyn and New York set up around the space.

It was utterly silent outside. The courtyard looked empty.

One of the warlocks – Ignatius de Leon, Alec thought – ran over to Magnus. “You're alright, Mr Bane!”

“For now,” Magnus said, though he returned the smile. “What's going on?”

“Boundary magic,” Ignatius explained. “We've quadruple-warded this courtyard, but that takes a lot of continuous funneling of magic to shield-”

“I know, I know, to keep my father from breaking through. Alec, we have to go back in there,” said Magnus urgently. “He will slaughter everyone if we don't stop him.”

Alec grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. “Magnus, I know that. But you are going to stay out here, okay?”

“If you expect me to sit out on protecting the people I love-”

“I need you out here to borrow enough magic to banish Asmodeus once more,” Alec interrupted. He kissed his warlock boyfriend. “You are the only one who has ever done it. I need to go back inside to protect the people we love, and when you're ready, you can come save our asses like the big damn hero you are.”

He must have poured enough conviction in his tone to convince Magnus. Flashing a quick smile at him, Alec nodded at Ignatius and dashed into the warded courtyard again, vanishing with a multihued shimmer.

***

Magnus couldn't help the lurch of worry in his belly, but he did his best to focus. He recognized two of the warlocks: Qin Ningxia from East Village was the one directing the coven powering the invisibility spell, while Ismawati Shah was directing about four other warlocks in charging wards to boost the defensive capability. The warlocks gathered here were mostly Catarina's friends. Ignatius had come to him before to learn a modified scrying spell.

“Why did you come?” Magnus asked Ignatius.

Ignatius looked both startled and offended by the question. “As if I would abandon you to Asmodeus. You're the rightful High Warlock of Brooklyn, Mr Bane.”

Magnus smiled and shook his head. “Lorenzo won the vote fair and square.”

“He set you up to be taken by Asmodeus,” Ningxia called out. She turned to look at them. “He's no longer High Warlock. Someone who sells their predecessors to demons shouldn't be in charge of warlocks at all.”

That was quite a lot to take in. Magnus filed that away for later consideration. “I will need details afterwards, assuming we survive Asmodeus. I need to borrow power before he kills everyone in there.”

Two of the warlocks left Ismawati and joined Ignatius. The scrawny little warlock introduced them as Lizabetta (“I prefer Liz”) and Daveed. “You can borrow ours.”

Magnus didn't know if three of them would be enough, and they were all quite young. Ignatius saw his hesitation and said, “Don't worry Mr Bane. I'll be the focus for the spell.”

Liz smiled at Magnus. “We know what we're doing, Mr Bane.”

***

Izzy had turned the whip back to a staff because there simply were too many bodies around for her to wield the whip effectively, and she needed it to get to her feet. She was fairly certain she had cracked ribs, but Asmodeus had to be stopped.

Right now, the Prince of Hell was buried under a pack of snarling and snapping werewolves. Izzy made her way to Alec, struggling to breathe properly, and nodded at him. “We can't hold Asmodeus long. He's killed two vampires, and Levi, Rachel and Elijah are down – Elijah will need emergency care if he is to survive the head trauma – watch out!”

She crouched and pulled her brother down with her as the werewolves were thrown off of Asmodeus with a blast of magic. There was a ripple where his crimson magic crashed into the protective boundary, and a few collided hard enough that the crack of their bones could be heard.

Izzy whipped her head around to stare at Asmodeus, who was torn up and bloody, but stood tall and strong. To her horrified fascination, a pair of wings, charred to the bone, unfurled from the King of Edom's shoulders. He was more beast than human in form now: six golden eyes, fixed on Alec; three tails snapping back and forth behind him; his fingers were all tipped with inch-long claws. As he prowled forwards, his ruined wings beat slowly behind him. Thunder rumbled in his wake. The ground cracked with every step. Fissures zigzagged out, racing to get away from him.

 _A fallen angel. That's what a fallen angel looks like._ Izzy knew fear. She hadn't known terror, not like this, with every muscle frozen in place and her mind screaming at her to _get out, get away, get out_ , a roaring echo in her head until she could not hear anything at all.

Alec swept her into her arms and hushed her before handing her to Underhill to be carried to the edge of the courtyard. Many of the younger shadowhunters were there, some still screaming hoarsely, and some had soiled themselves. Catarina had taken charge here, her healing magic like a haze over various injured fighters. Dot was shielding the group,blocking stray projectiles and occasionally firing small bolts of magic at Asmodeus.

Izzy could physically feel the throbbing of her own pulse in her _face;_  that was not something anyone should feel. There had to be a rune to calm her down, she knew it existed, but she could not for her life remember what it was...

“Breathe Isabelle, breathe.” Underhill patted her shoulder. “It's Asmodeus' influence. You can fight it.”

Izzy's vision was swimming. She stared at Underhill, the very air around him blurring. “Influence?”

“You were the first to take him on in combat,” Underhill said. He glanced behind him. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. “You're not frightened by him. This is something he made you think.”

Izzy wanted to believe him. She wanted to, but her ribs hurt, and her limbs were cold, and she could not breathe without difficulty. “Go-go help Alec,” she managed to bite out the words, despite her chattering teeth. Whether this abject fear was from Asmodeus or her own response to seeing a Prince of Hell was immaterial – her brother was the demon's target, and he must be protected.

***

Alec held his ground, despite the terror that permeated every cell. He was far too furious for fear to weaken his resolve. _I will end you,_ he thought. _I will end you, and Magnus will be free of you and your manipulation._

His arrows were blocked with apparent ease, although every shot made Asmodeus take a step back. Alec's quiver was not bottomless, however, and he was soon out of arrows. Before he could even draw his blade, Jace charged at Asmodeus.

Asmodeus' fiery sword blocked Jace's assault with a metallic screech. Jace was forced back, although he was using all his strength to push on; Asmodeus snarled something in a guttural language that made Alec's guts roil and churn unpleasantly. He broke out in cold sweat, knees buckling under him, and had to scrawl a stamina rune again.

To his surprise, his parabatai only grinned fiercely. “I have demon blood, that shit doesn't work on me.” The blond ducked and rolled, his blade sweeping over Asmodeus' good leg. It was not a deep enough cut, but Jace had drawn blood. The ground sizzled and hissed where the droplets fell. Asmodeus shouted in anger and pain, blasting another bolt of magical fire at Jace. Clary leaped in front of her boyfriend and blocked it with her swords crossed before her. The two of them were sent sprawling back across half the spacious courtyard. The bolt of magic scattered into dozens of smaller fireballs that landed on werewolves and vampires alike, setting some of them aflame. A cacophony of howls and roars erupted, with everyone trying to put out the Downworlders The ensuing chaos left a clear path between Alec and Asmodeus.

The demon pointed his flaming sword at Alec. “Usurper. I will make him eat your heart.”

“You will never lay a hand on Magnus again,” Alec said. He tightened his grip on his own seraph blade.

A skinny young man cut between them. Simon was trembling and he was completely _unarmed_ , the idiot, but his back was to Alec and his fists clenched.

Asmodeus laughed, his six eyes narrowing. “Daylighter. You promised to kill Lilith for me, and you did not fulfill your end of the deal. If you stand between me and my prey, I will cut you down as I did that pathetic bitch.”

“Simon, get out of the way!”

“We did _not_ rescue you for you to be killed!” Simon shouted over his shoulder.

“Get-” Alec was a fingertip away from the vampire when Asmodeus used magic to levitate him. “Simon!”

Asmodeus' smirk twisted into a vicious leer. “The Head of the New York Shadowhunter Institute, worried about a _Daylighter_. Your underlings fighting side by side with Downworlders. How far the blessed have fallen!”

 _A cat. He has all the instincts of a large cat, playing with his food,_ Alec thought. He smiled at Asmodeus though his heart was hammering wildly against his ribs. “What can I say? Your son has been a corrupting influence.”

Asmodeus' entire demeanor darkened at the mention of Magnus. He flung the hapless Simon aside and rushed, Alec, who sidestepped and slashed wildly with the sword. He felt it catch, but there was no blood on the blade. He saw the notch on one of Asmodeus' ruined wings, but had to dodge a thrust from the sword. As he whirled around, he felt something scorchingly hot wrap around his left ankle and yank. He fell, his seraph blade clattering off to the side, when Izzy's whip danced out and caught him by his right arm.

“Izzy, you're not strong enough!” Alec shouted, but then he saw that it was his sister and Steve together hauling on the other end of the whip. The burning pressure on his leg suddenly disappeared and there was a roar of frustration from behind Alec. Izzy, on the other hand, cheered out loud.

The shadowhunter rolled over and kipped up, though his left ankle felt like it had been seared by hot iron – thanks to Daji, he knew exactly how that felt – and was not able to take his weight properly.

Magnus was here. He was practically glowing with silvery light sparking off his fingertips, and he had enmeshed Asmodeus with a net of white light. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, but his golden cat's eyes were gleaming with power, and his gaze unwavering. He was muttering under his breath while a pentagram of white light formed under Asmodeus' feet. A vortex formed from the center of the pentagram, circling down into a yawning abyss, sucking everything near it in. His left ankle giving way suddenly, Alec staggered forward until he was caught by Raphael, looking very much the worst for wear.

“Thanks,” said Alec.

Raphael only grunted.

“Kekasih!” Asmodeus screamed, his voice distorted and unearthly. “Aku bakal duwe sampeyan, pengkhianat!”

“...benedictus deus, gloria patri, benedictus dea, matri gloria!” Magnus shouted, and shoved forwards, then down with both palms.

The vortex dragged Asmodeus into its gaping maw and then closed up, leaving behind only a scorched pentagram.

Magnus smiled at Alec. “I did it.” Then he fainted.

***

***

Life returned to something approaching normal over the course of the next three months. Alec recovered from the dimension-hopping and the battle with Asmodeus in only a week. Eight shadowhunters, though, died in the line of duty, and eleven more had severe injuries that required them to be sent to the Silent Brothers. The Clave had been upset, of course, but the New York Institute did just stop a Prince of Hell, so there was a grudging agreement to leave things be. Izzy, Steve and Alec made a formidable team, reorganizing the Institute's training regime and security patrols, coordinating with their Downworld allies.

Luke's pack suffered loss as well in the fight: three werewolves, one of them barely a year into his change. Alec offered financial support for the families they left behind, but the pack turned him down. “We provide for our own” was the answer.

The vampires were mostly alright, thanks to their supernatural speed, and apparently Raphael and Simon were on talking terms again after Simon helped deliver Magnus' memories, so that was one bright spot.

Once Lorenzo was dispatched to the Labyrinth, Catarina called for a new election for the position of High Warlock, but surprisingly, Magnus refused to be a candidate, citing that he needed to recover from his abduction. For the moment, Catarina was High Warlock, with Dot as her assistant and Magnus as a consultant, when needed. It was an arrangement that allowed Cat to continue with her work in the hospital.

Alec was the only one who knew the real extent of Magnus' trauma. For the entire first month he was back, Magnus could not sleep, and often stared out at nothing. Some days, he could not remember who Alec was, and that was tough for them both.

One morning, Alec woke up to the kitchen knife pointing at him, the tip weaving as Magnus fought his confusion and panic. “Who are you? Where is this?”

“Magnus,” Alec said, all sleepiness driven away, “I'm Alec Lightwood, your boyfriend. I'm your Alexander. There is a notebook in your nightstand, sealed by your own magic. Just open it, read it, and you'll remember.”

Magnus was hyperventilating and he kept licking his lips, unsure if he should listen to Alec. Eventually, he went and retrieved the notebook. The touch of his magic opened it, and the memories came back, and the warlock fell to his knees, crying hysterically.

As he hurried to his boyfriend's side, Alec texted Steve and said he would not be going into the Institute.

“I nearly killed you,” Magnus whispered in anguish. “I could've killed you and not even know what I was doing.”

“You didn't. You didn't. You knew something wasn't right and you woke me up and it's okay, I'm okay, we'll get through this.”

Magnus' voice was ragged with self-loathing. “You don't know that. By all the gods, Alec, I'm _broken_. I woke up not knowing what year this is, I forgot my own home, I forgot _you_ , and I don't know when I will stop forgetting.”

Alec had no answer. The most powerful healers he knew were the Silent Brothers, and their treatment would kill Magnus. Besides, how was anyone to retrieve memories consumed by a Prince of Hell? The memory demon back when Clary was looking for hers was already the limit of Magnus' abilities, unless he received boosts, but there was no chance of anyone summoning Asmodeus for that.

“How could he do this to me? How could he _do_ this to _me?_ ” the warlock questioned, hugging his own arms and rocking a little on the spot. Alec pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head – it was early enough that Magnus hadn't styled it. “I thought... I thought I could last a month with him, I thought he'd see it for the peace offering it was, and yet- My own _father_ , how could he?”

Since it was not the first time Magnus had spiraled into this destructive train of thought, Alec knew better than to keep pushing. That would be Magnus' therapist's job. Instead, he carried Magnus back to bed and kissed his brow, and then his soft lips. “Magnus, take five good, deep breaths for me.”

Once that was done, Alec smiled at him and said, “We'll see Dr Henderson today, okay? I'll bring in the kitties and you can play with them while I set up an appointment.”

The warlock sniffed and smiled back, a little damp around the edges.

Alec had to kiss him again. Having him back was the only thing that mattered. Before he went to retrieve the cats, he whispered, “You are not broken at all, Magnus Bane. You are brave, and strong, and kind, and you are mine to take care of, for as long as I live. You will get through this, because I will be right here with you.”

Magnus chuckled, his breath hiccuping. “That is extremely corny, darling. Now go on, I want my kitty cats.”

Laughing softly, Alec kissed him again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aku bakal duwe sampeyan, pengkhianat - I will have you, traitor
> 
> benedictus deus, gloria patri, benedictus dea, matri gloria - blessed be God, the Father, blessed be Goddess, the Mother


End file.
